


Zeal•t

by Glassheart94



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl being a little shit, Denial, M/M, Mixed Signals, No seriously its probably going to be painfully slow burn, Pining, Rick has serious blue balls, Set at the prison, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, This is probably gonna end up AU as fuck, Unresolved Sexual Tension, angst fest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-02-23 01:15:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2528636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glassheart94/pseuds/Glassheart94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows it may be sinful to have these desires, to be consumed by such overwhelming longing, but to Rick he's something ethereal. He's covets his attention and longs for the absolution he knows only he can offer him. He's the axis on which his world turns, his Deity. And if he's a Deity, the Rick will happily be a zealot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Luxuria

 

 

 

 

 

> **Zeal.ot** :
> 
> _a person who has very strong feelings about something (such as religion or politics) and who wants other people to have those feelings : a zealous person_
> 
> _  
> _
> 
>  

> _*_
> 
>  

Rick heard the shouts of the others all around him as he clocked eyes on the figure emerging from the tree line. A cacophony of activity broke out around him as everyone jumped into action running towards the gates. Rick wanted to move but he found he was paralysed, a strange feeling crushing his lungs. He could hear a dull buzzing in his head, muffling the sounds of everyone around him. He distantly noted that he heard someone calling his name, seeking a reaction, but he just wasn't able to process it. _Daryl._ He was alive. He was actually alive. And just like that the realisation started to process, pushing through the swirling mess that was his thoughts and forcing oxygen back into his lungs. He felt a rush of emotion so powerful that he thought for a minute his knees might give out. His heart which had spent the last few days beating feebly in his chest, a dark and ugly bruise rather than an organ, burst into life hammering wildly in his chest making it feel like it was on fire. He started to take long strides forward without noticing, breaking into a run as he reached the gate. A few more steps and he was there. And then he was looking into the eyes that had haunted him for the first time in a week. 

Standing mere inches away he could feel the heat coming in waves off his body. He reckoned Daryl must be feverish because he was covered in a thin layer of sweat that matched Rick's palms at that moment, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he surveyed the damage. He looked a mess of bruises and cuts but nothing seemed to be obviously broken, although Rick noted that he had limped as he approached, suggesting a sprain or leg injury of some kind. He could feel himself trembling as he took in the sight of blood and tried to keep his breathing even, not wanting the group who were watching the scene unfold from a short distance away to notice. He knew Daryl had noticed his distress though if the way he cast his eyes downward were any indication. Rick felt himself bitterly hoping that the sudden slope of his shoulders was due to guilt after the pain he had caused everyone. The pain he had caused  _him._ He took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice calm despite the inner turmoil causing his stomach to turn unpleasantly. He eventually forced himself to speak after what could have been a minute or an eternity of burning a hole in the ground with eyes. 

"Were you bit?" he asked, finally raising his eyes to look at the man who had made his life unbearable for the last week. He was at least proud that he sounded more nonchalant than he felt. Daryl twitched minutely, which might have been unnoticeable to anyone who wasn't standing in front of him but Rick caught the movement. Before he had a chance to judge whether it was from shock at his tone or annoyance at the question Daryl slowly looked up, levelling his eyes with him defiantly. Even when he was at his worst he still always had to remain in control of the situation. He reacted to all intense situations like this one like he was about to be attacked, defences raised to an all time high, back eternally to the wall .

"Y'think I'da come back if I was bit?", he snapped back quietly, eyes lit with an unspoken challenge. Rick felt an urge to scream flare up in his chest, Daryl's obstinance provoking him into a near blind rage. He smothered the feeling growing inside him, pushing it down into his darkest corners and nodded stiffly.

"Go get those wounds looked at", he whispered, loud enough so only Daryl could hear him before turning on his heel and stalking away, trying to look calm and in control despite the thundering in his chest.

He wasn't stupid. He knew the others wouldn't be fooled by his little display but his instinct for self-preservation had kicked in and was trying to save him from further harm. He thought he heard Maggie call after him but he didn't look back, deafened by the blood rushing around his head. They knew something was amiss. Normally when the hunter returned from a run looking injured Rick would grab him and pull at his clothes, a wild look in his eye as he scanned him from head to toe. He would stammer questions at him while examining every cut and bruise and his hands wouldn't stop shaking until he had seen with his own two eyes and hands that he was okay. It sickened him that he felt such overwhelming guilt at not sticking around to see if he was okay, to ask where he had been. 

But this time he just couldn't.

 He was drowning as he walked away, wave after wave of relief, anger and other emotions he didn't feel like naming washing over him. He could feel curious eyes burning into him so he only walked faster. He didn't stop walking until he found himself in one of the abandoned offices, not even noticing his feet had carried him there. It was there the anger and fear brimmed over, his emotions bursting out like a bottle that had been shook too many times. It wasn't until he had smashed, punched and kicked everything in his sight that he realised his face was wet with tears. 

He sagged against the wall feeling deflated, sliding down onto the ground he replayed the moment he saw Daryl emerge from the trees. The relief had been almost painful. He remembered finally getting to look into those piercing eyes, and in that moment they had seemed bluer than anything else he'd ever seen in his life. He had never felt so many emotions at once and in between all these different emotions was one he had been noticing more and more, one that was warm and strong and made his heart feel like it was on fire. He had felt it before, he was sure of it. He tried to analyse it, picking it apart piece by piece but whenever he thought too deeply about it he'd recall a memory of looking into Lori's eyes at prom and feeling a curious cocktail of nervous, excited and overwhelmed. And he didn't want to dissect the meaning behind that. The more he thought about it the more he realised it was a emotion he was familiar with, he just hadn't felt it in a long time.

The more he tried to put a name to it, the more he felt like he was suffocating. 

 

*

It had all started that winter.

Summer had blended so seamlessly into winter that it was almost hard to comprehend it had happened. The transition was unnoticeable apart from the canvas of gold and brick red leaves that formed a blanket in the trees high above them. One day it was mild, the next it was Arctic. It wasn't until the leaves started to fall from the trees like tears that Rick was able to numbly accept the truth he'd been trying to avoid. The sanctuary they'd experienced at the farm was long gone. His family were going to end up spending the winter on the road. His kid. His pregnant wife. The bitter taste of failure began to form on his tongue and he felt the crushing weight of despair creep in threatening to smother him. Winter had swept in without him noticing, and soon it would be fully upon them.

The wind began to pick up soon after in sharp icy bursts that rattled their teeth. But the cold was by far the worst part. It was merciless, the kind of chill that seemed to seep into your bones and curl up inside you to live there. It maintained a permanent residence in their bodies that seemed to match the bitterness in everyone's hearts. Looking back at it, Rick could safely say it was the lowest point in his life. Depression was barely kept at bay and seemed to plague him in his every waking moment. Often in his dreams as well. They had next to no food and spent half the days sitting in their vehicles curled up in whatever they could find to stay warm, clasping each others hands and trying to keep each other's spirits up. Or what was left of them. The smaller numbers of walkers they encountered was a small mercy in their bleak existences, it was about the only high point. 

Rick did his best to keep his little family safe, if he couldn't do that he could at least die trying. And if it wasn't for Daryl he probably would have. They probably all would have. It was around that time that Rick first started to come to see the hunter as his anchor into sanity. That winter Daryl had become Rick's foundation. The mechanism that held him together at the seems. He fit perfectly into the cracks in Ricks broken spirit and filled them up, gluing him back together. Reflecting back he doesn't think he would have made it without his gruff assurances and his aggressively stubborn brand of encouragement. Every time Rick fell down he was in his face growling at him to get the fuck back up and get on with it. Rick doesn't remember how it happened, the shift that caused Daryl to turn from furtive and wary of everyone to being his right hand man but he isn't about to complain. It seemed one day Daryl was lurking on the perimeter of the group, peering in with cautious eyes like a feral cat, afraid of being kicked if he voiced his opinion, and next he was stepping up to the group and getting involved in discussions, helping make the important decisions. 

Rick began to view Daryl as an integral part of the group, the more his and Lori's relationship decayed the more Rick found himself leaning on Daryl for advice he normally would have sought out from his wife. And truthfully, Rick began to enjoy his silent companionship a lot. Despite opening up more to the group and getting involved with them on a larger scale he was still taking baby steps when it came to conversation. Small talk was one thing, a brief conversation usually didn't get his defences up too much, but the minute a question tiptoed too far into the realm of personal his face would clamp down, eyes turning steely and uncomfortable. And in that way he wore his emotions on his face, a silent warning to everyone around that this was a man who had been damaged in so many ways. Ways that made Rick's hackles raise and his blood boil if he dwelt on those thoughts for too long. 

But even despite all that, Rick had grown to enjoy spending time with him. He never bullshitted him, was straight to the point in a way Rick admired, no need to mince his words. The more Rick got little glimpses of the man underneath his prickly surface the more he found himself drawn to him, sucked in by the underlying mystery in his words and actions. It just made Rick want to try harder to get close to him. The first time Daryl had asked him to go hunting with him back before the bitter sting of winter dug into the earth he had felt a shift. This, he realised, was the closest thing Daryl had to a friendly gesture, a tentative offer to form a friendship and Rick was secretly pleased that it was he who had made it this far out of everyone. For Daryl, spending time together in near silence still counted as bonding and Rick was happy to take what he could get. 

He was also the first one to breach the barrier of touch with him without getting a look that spelt possible injury was coming for whoever dared to get physical with him. Many nights that winter were spent pressed together around the small fires they were forced to erect when the danger of freezing to death became a grim but real possibility. While the rest of the group sat huddled together in the cars or near the fire in whatever blankets were available, Daryl and Rick sat hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder by the fire with more often than not, only Daryl's poncho draped around their shoulders. Pressed close together for warmth they plotted the groups next move, scanned maps and planned runs, discussing hunting trips and food long after everyone else had wandered off to try and claim sleep. 

Rick would later come to notice that he and Daryl took the majority of watches those nights as well but he couldn't begrudge the group that fact. They were all malnourished and weak from months on the road. He felt it was his duty to keep them safe anyway so he didn't really mind, and blessedly for him, Daryl seemed to have decided it was his role to keep Rick alive and sane. The amount of times he did that over the winter overwhelmed him when he recalled those months. That winter they became a team, a partnership, and if it wasn't too forward for Rick to say, _friends_. He knew Daryl still didn't fully trust them, still didn't feel fully part of the group, but Rick couldn't feel too bitter about that. All he had to do was join the dots regarding the information he had gathered about Daryl's life growing up and he could see why he wasn't throwing himself into their open arms. He'd rather remain cautious than get hurt. Although he'd probably sooner kill them all with his bare hands than admit the root of his distrust. Admitting fear was not in his nature. Rick hoped he could eventually coax him to change his mind about the group and make him see how important he was to them, to him. 

The first nights they took watch that winter were spent sitting pressed side by side making brief conversation but mostly just sharing amicable silence, the only sound being Daryl exhaling smoke from his cigarette, the tip glowing cherry red in the dark. He hadn't been able to find many over the winter months so he had taken to enjoying them when he could. It was peaceful, and Rick began to realise that Daryl's quiet friendship was the only breath of fresh air in his life at that moment. And that bond only began to strengthen over those harsh months. After a few nights Rick began to wake to find himself leaning into Daryl's shoulder and feeling surprised he hadn't tried to move him or shrug him off. He would often mumble apologies upon discovering himself in that position but the hunter would always just grunt and shrug his shoulders, usually mutter under his breath that Rick deserved the rest. His eyes were unreadable in those moments but his body language seemed relaxed enough so eventually Rick took his word for it when he said it was fine. Daryl was always ready to help him out in whatever way he could, even the unconventional ways.

And somehow, slowly, Rick began to look forward to those nights in his own twisted way.

He soon discovered that the only way he could sleep comfortably was tucked into the younger man's side. Whenever he was on guard duty with someone else, or even lying among the group nights he wasn't, he couldn't sleep. Because these people needed him, if he fell asleep he wouldn't be able to protect them. He needed to stay awake in case something happened. And then came the night he fell asleep on Daryl and things changed. He realised that he was the only one he felt comfortable to sleep near, because he was the only one strong enough to look after himself. When Rick looked at him he saw the kind of man who wouldn't go down without a fight, he was sturdy and feral and well able to look after himself. He was strong. And it was thoughts like that which Rick used to comfort himself to sleep those nights. 

However, the most surprising nights were the ones when he would have his eyes glued to the tree lines, obsessively watching for danger, and he'd feel the hunter slowly tip further into his side, head lolling onto his shoulder. It felt almost like he was melting into him. It was nights like that that made Rick remember that he was only human despite the way he carried on like he was made of stone. And if the warmth radiating off him was anything to go by he obviously was far from it. No matter all his talk about being indestructible, some nights he'd just collapse into sleep beside Rick, sagging against him. He began to grow secretly fond of those nights. Daryl's body was a comfortable weight against his side and Rick would sometimes find his arm curling around the hunters back gently to pull him closer. When he pretended it was to do with warmth he almost managed to avoid the strange feeling that would bloom in his stomach when he did it. 

Rick was someone who had always craved physical contact, for as long as he could remember he had always been an affectionate person. With Lori drawing away he was left feeling embarrassingly lonely. Embarrassing because the world had gone to hell and he was worried about being lonely. Rick had got to the stage where even thinking about his wife was painful let alone looking at her. It seemed the colder and sharper her body got the more bitter and mean her words became. Her sunken face had started to look macabre and skeletal to him that winter making her swollen stomach look comically obscene and grotesque. Her eyes burning judgement into the back of his head. Sometimes when he looked at her too quickly, delusional with sleep he swore he could see a crudely drawn skull painted upon her face, mocking him.

But having Daryl pressed against him through the night dulled the ache. It was comforting in a way he couldn't quite put into words. He spent a good majority of those nights studying the hunters face. Sometimes, when the sun was rising and it caught his face at just the right angle, Rick would think he was strangely beautiful. He looked so open, so vulnerable while he slept. When his face was devoid of its pinched look, scowl gone, he looked softer somehow, more gentle, more breakable. And that was the root of the problem. That's when Rick started having trouble sleeping again. Because in those moments Daryl's vulnerability scared him. Rick looked at him while he was awake and saw a powerful sturdy man with a dangerous edge to him, almost feral when his fury was provoked. The kind of man that didn't need to have his hand held. He looked so fragile in his sleep, too fragile. Too easy to kill. When the bristly mask of indifference cracked away he looked just as weak as any of them, at least emotionally anyway.

And then those nights changed from Rick stealing curious and admiring glances at him, studying his face with a strange feeling in his stomach he couldn't explain, to watching him anxiously out of the corner of his eye, hamster wheel spinning furiously in his head till he'd finally feel a twitch of movement in the body beside him. Until those blue eyes would crack open and calm the storm of anxiety in his mind. And as Daryl would stiffen and pull away, cast his eyes down and mutter a gruff "sorry", his voice gravelly from sleep, Rick would shake his head and mumble back "Don' worry bout it", and wonder when he had come to worry about the hunters well being so much. And it went much deeper than that.

When it came to the nights he couldn't sit up and keep watch beside Daryl, stealing a few hours sleep by his side, whatever broken sleep he could get would be punctuated by horrific nightmares. They used to be exclusively about Lori and Carl. Watching them die, watching them get ripped apart. But when Daryl started to join them in his grisly nightmares he didn't have time to reflect on what it meant. He just knew it meant he'd never be able to sleep easy again till he got his family somewhere safe.

The winter was harsh and unforgiving and Rick wondered often how they had all made it to the other side alive. He'd call it a miracle but that would be giving God undue credit. His family didn't make it through the winter because of God guiding them, they did it because they were strong and unrelenting and he would be damned if he heard anyone in the group equate that to a religious miracle. Everyone had been weathered down over the cold months to nothing but muscle and bone. Prominent shoulder blades and hip bones a regular feature among the group. Rick noted that Daryl seemed to have changed the most, any trace of fat he'd once had was long eroded away. All those nights spent sitting up with him combined with all the supply runs they did together that winter gave him plenty of time to study the younger man.  He was nothing but lean muscle everywhere, face angular, cheekbones almost as sharp as his words when he was in a foul mood. He knew that out of all of them Daryl had been the one to forgo food the most often in order for someone else to have a bigger meal. He himself had donated towards Lori and Carl but not as much as Daryl did. Something about it made his chest feel heavy and tight when he knew his son or wife was eating an extra big meal that night because of the hunter.

When the ice started to thaw out and tendrils of foliage started to tentatively poke out from amongst the frost Rick's heart leapt with the promise of possible game to hunt again which meant they might be able to eat comfortably once more. The first time Daryl brought something back from a hunting trip that spring his knees nearly sagged underneath him from happiness.  Everyone erupted around him into excitement and gratitude and all he could do was place his hand on Daryl's shoulder and squeeze, hoping his gratitude shone forth from his eyes like a light at the end of the tunnel. And then when the hunter nodded back at him looking uncomfortable but pleased, for the first time since they ended up on the road he felt a brief glimmer of hope form within him that maybe things were looking up. And as faith would have it, he was right.

A few weeks later, they found the prison. 

 

*

Rick couldn't remember the last time he had felt this relieved as he gazed around the prison yard they had just cleared that day. He had found a potential home for his little family, with Daryl's help obviously, every bit of good he did lately seemed to involve his ever present shadow. No more running from place to place and living out of bags. They had somewhere to settle down, somewhere Lori could have the baby in safety. Thinking about Lori made his heart twist unpleasantly for a minute but he shook it off, trying not to let it ruin the feeling of hope blossoming in his chest. He paced the perimeter of the fence obsessively that evening to check for any damage or signs of wear on it. He must have circled it a good few times before he heard a figure approaching. He knew almost immediately it was Daryl, he had never been too far from his side over the last few months and Rick didn't have a feeling he was about to start now.

He turned to find the hunter scrutinising him, eyes scanning his face for something before speaking.

"You been up n' down tha fence about 'undred times already, you waitin' fer it t'do somethin'?" he asked dryly, his light almost sarcastic tone not masking the fact that he was expecting the older man to give him a proper answer. Rick sighed, dragging his hand over his face, peering out at Daryl between the spaces of fingers for a minute before answering.

"M'waitin' for somethin' to go wrong, this place..it just..seems too good t'be true" he answered truthfully, hand dropping to his side limply like it suddenly lost feeling.  He could see understanding in Daryl's eyes and he knew he felt the same without saying it. A few seconds ticked by in silence before the hunter spoke again, the weight of their worries adding thickness to the air.

"Why don' you go get some rest fer once" he murmured, voice quiet and full of something Rick didn't recognise. He thought for a minute it might have been concern but he didn't want to be presumptuous. Daryl didn't strike him as a worrier.

"I know I should its jus'... it's been so long since I let my guard down an' relaxed, not sure I know how to any more" he replied, voice drifting quieter near the end as he turned to look out into the trees.

"Giv' it time man", Daryl said as he took a few steps towards Rick, his proximity forcing him to turn and look at him. He was close enough that Rick could reach over and touch him. 

"I thin' we could make it work here, we could be safe 'ere", he added fixing him with that challenging stare that dared him to argue. It was like he thought he could force Rick to believe his words with a look. And god if his stubbornness didn't have the corner of his mouth twitching up into a reluctant smile.

"Y'think?" he asked out loud, laughing quietly to himself. Shaking his head he looked up meeting Daryl's eyes again.

"I hope your right" he added softly, cocking his head to study the man in front of him, trace of a smile lingering on his face. The hunter shifted for a minute, fidgeting uncomfortably under Rick's observational gaze before looking him in the eyes again.

"M' always righ' Officer Friendly" he shot back in that gruff voice, a faint glimpse of amusement playing around his mouth. He wasn't big on smiling, usually conveying amusement through a trademark smirk. The few times he outright smiled properly he'd usually turn his head to the side so no one would notice, almost like he was self-conscious about expressing happiness. The few times he actually smiled at Rick without hiding it was overwhelmingly captivating, making Rick's tongue feel heavy in his mouth.

Rick resisted the urge to roll his eyes at that remark and instead grasped the crook of Daryl's inner arm and squeezed it, letting out a quiet huff of laughter.

"All righ' smart ass I'll be over in a minute, just goin' t'check one more time" he relented, savouring the warmth of the younger man's skin beneath his fingertips. Daryl nodded, looking like he might have something to say about that but instead he briefly clasped Rick's wrist in response, causing heat to flare in that spot, before turning and heading back over to the group who were gathered around the fire. 

Over the winter they had grown close in so many different ways but the one that always continued to surprise him the most was the physical aspect. Rick was used to male bonding and friendship after being close to Shane for so many years, but to achieve physical familiarity with a man like Daryl just felt different. Like more of an honour. He couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pride if the hunter were to casually touch him, like it was a great achievement that he wanted to wear on his chest like a medal. It had started off simple enough with Rick giving Daryl small touches on the arm or back to reassure him in tense moments or even just to encourage him. Brief and gentle. After that it became normal for them to touch casually. They had taken to clasping hands or slapping each other on the back in greeting or congratulations. They were often seen sitting together during the winter pressed so close that one didn't know where the other ended like it was perfectly normal, jostling each other's shoulders and pushing against each other while joking and teasing. But the most obvious signs of their touching occurred when one was injured.

If either of them showed signs of injury the other would grab at their face and body and examine them thoroughly, hands flying under clothes to check for bites in a frantic, desperate manner. The group often noted that neither of them released their breath until they knew the other was fine, shoulders sagging with relief. When this was pointed out to either of them they would shake off the questioning looks and try not to appear too bothered about what was being implied. This new found physical relationship however, was still completely on Daryl's terms and god forbid anyone should approach him at an ill timed moment. He had to be in control at all times so Rick usually tried to keep the touching casual and minimal and let the hunter initiate most of the time. He gauged his reaction before reaching out and gave him time to ease into it. There were still moments when he would retreat into himself and recoil from touch like it was a hot poker, trying to play off the brief flicker of fear in his eye with a sneer or sharp remark. These moments mainly occurred when someone came at him from behind or just moved too fast towards him, causing him to flinch. Rick can only imagine why scenarios like that caused him to panic and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

Over time, as Lori pulled away from him further, he unwittingly found himself craving these touches like a parched man chasing the promise of water. They calmed him and brought him comfort and reassurance.  Daryl kept him sharp and on his toes and Rick felt such overwhelming respect for him. It brought him happiness to find someone who could replace the hole losing Shane left, someone who could have his back at all times and support him. It was nice to have someone to admire again. But somewhere along the line it became more than admiration. If on a particular occasion the hunters hand lingered on the small of his back for a few seconds longer than usual or he was sat close, pressed up again Rick's side with a faint smirk on his face, he'd start to feel flustered. A strange feeling would start to coil in the pit of his stomach that made his skin feel too tight. His palms felt sweaty when he looked at him and he swore once, when Daryl had smiled at him, his whole stomach had jumped and he'd felt a jolt down his spine that made it tingle at the base. He supposed that the hunter was quite handsome in his own strange way. Sure he was always dirty and often covered in guts but Rick could tell that underneath it all he was attractive. 

He had the broadest shoulders Rick had ever seen that tapered down into biceps that were lean and well developed, muscle rippling under the skin, arms rock hard after months of hefting that crossbow around and fighting off walkers. He was powerful, strongly defined and something about that excited Rick. His face was ruggedly handsome in an unconventional way, he didn't look like your typical model but he had something uniquely tantalising about him. His lips were thin but Rick couldn't help but think they looked soft, he wondered idly if he'd ever have the chance to find out. He had to silently scold himself after thoughts like that. There was nothing strange about noticing another man was attractive he reasoned, even if he did notice that he had the most incredible eyes he'd ever seen. Blue, like the colour of the sea after a storm. He wrote these thoughts off as admiration, after all, the man had saved his life a couple of dozen times.

The first time he woke up with an ache between his legs and Daryl's name on his lips is when he suspected his feelings ran a bit deeper than admiration. His thoughts gave way to fantasies that left him waking up feeling ashamed and dirty. It had got to the stage where he could barely look at the other man without feeling a mixture of desire and shame. So he tried to smother those ugly feelings of lust and hoped they would suffocate and fade away like smoke into the night.

Watching Daryl walk across the prison yard after their conversation that night Rick wondered who's cruel joke it was that he was attracted to his best friend. His male straight best friend. He vowed in that moment as he surveyed the perimeter of their new home one last time, that after they'd secured the prison he'd sit down and take time to dissect his feelings and sort through them in a sensible mature way. He reasoned that he'd have plenty of time to adjust to these feelings and deal with them properly once they settled in.

Of course, he didn't realise that everything was about to go to shit. 

 *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah as I'm sure you all guessed the little flash forward at the start doesn't actually occur till much later in the story, I just thought it would be a good starting point. I know not a lot happened in this chapter but it was more about laying the foundation than anything else. The next chapter will jump straight into the story and you can see all the events that led to what happened in the opening of this chapter. I'm pretty sure this story is going to end up veering wildly away from the actual programme once the Woodbury folks arrive because I'm incapable of not going off track. I'll try to upload as frequently as possible but keep in mind that I'm a 3rd year college student and show me mercy if I slip up a bit. I hope you all like the first chapter!


	2. Amissio

Rick lay staring at the canopy above his bunk, eyes drilling into it as he tried to focus his thoughts. It had been still dark when he awoke but before he consciously realised it sunlight was starting to peak in between the bars of his cell, illuminating everything in a faint glow. When the tell tale murmur of life began to pick up around him he accepted that it was time to get up and face the day. He had been feeling out of sorts over the last while, his head felt like it was underwater half the time. Things were quiet for now but he was certain things wouldn't remain peaceful for long; things had a way of falling apart every time he let his guard down. Paranoia had become more a part of his personality rather than a feeling after the recent events he faced. Ever since the Woodbury people had arrived the place had been bustling with life. All the newcomers competing to be useful, afraid of being thrown out into the hell the prison gates held back. Rick had taken to enjoying his mornings; they were the only time he could take a minute to himself. He swung his legs out of his bunk and sat up stretching. He took a moment to listen to the sounds all around him. He could hear people up walking around, greeting each other as they set about their day, he still felt surprise when he heard laughter. He supposed that was because he had very little to laugh about let alone smile about after all he had been through over the last few weeks. He was just getting back to normal after the grief and overcoming the emotional turmoil that had temporarily blackened his mind. Just as he was about to stand up he heard a piercing cry.

 _Judith_.

He still wasn't used to the cries; it had been a long time since he had looked after a baby, Carl being so long ago. He still couldn't look at his daughter without feeling a stab of guilt that he wasn't there for her during her first days to look after her. She made him think of Lori, and that made the guilt intensify tenfold. **Lori**. After she died the foundations that were holding Rick's fragile sanity together cracked inwards and collapsed. He felt like he was falling within himself and everything around him felt far away. The cries of his baby, the shouts of everyone around him trying to reach him. He felt like he was watching himself from outside his body and he couldn't connect with the events transpiring around him. He didn't know how long he spent wandering around the catacombs of the prison chasing ghosts. It could have been hours, days, heck maybe it was only minutes but he couldn't tell. When he eventually emerged to face his demons he remembered her, his baby. One of his last tangible links to his wife, apart from Carl of course. When he finally held her he felt the tears slowly coming, brimming inside as he felt the grief he had tried so hard to ignore resurfacing and threatening to overwhelm him. And in that moment he knew it, the repulsive, bitter truth of the universe.

 _He had been a bad husband_. And this was his punishment. Things between him and Lori had been far from perfect long before the dead started to walk but he couldn't have predicted the deterioration that was yet to come. It all boiled down to two simple facts; Rick couldn't forgive Lori sleeping with Shane and she couldn't wrap it around her head that he'd killed him. They were at an impasse. Two strangers who kept each other's beds warm over the winter for convenience rather than passion. And it made him sad in his bones to see how things had fallen apart. Because oh, how he had loved her. He had loved her so much. When he had woken in that hospital, fearing he'd never see her again the pain was indescribable. To discover what she had done, with his best friend, had been such a betrayal in his eyes. He tried his best to learn to accept it, to be a good husband, but it had always lingered in the back of his head.

The day he told her what had happened with Shane and she recoiled from him, the part of heart that still bet for her started to frost over. That he couldn't come back from. Over the winter she began to reach out to him again, more seeking comfort and reassurance than love, but he always just shook her off. He couldn't bear to look at her any more for different reasons that winter. As she grew thinner and weaker he grew more ashamed. She was pregnant and starving. He couldn't protect one of the only people he swore to protect, one last mockery of their wedding vows. Whenever he looked at her he saw all his failures projected onto her like a canvas, so eventually he stopped looking. And it killed him now that he hadn't made the effort to bridge the gap between them. He knew their marriage was basically over, but they could of at least made their peace before she died, and there in lied one of his biggest regrets. And that led him to one of his biggest sources of shame. **His feelings for Daryl**.

Rick had always been faithful to his wife. That was one thing he could say with pride. In all the time he had been married he had never looked twice at anyone else, let alone a man. And when he was sitting next to his wife around the fire that winter and looking at the hunter with barely masked longing it made him feel guilty. He knew he would have rather been over there sitting beside him. And that's how he knew he was a bad husband. When Rick eventually got over his initial fugue state after her death he felt disjointed. He was starting to see Lori everywhere and it was driving his mad. He felt her eyes judging him with pity and it stung. She haunted him in his dreams too. She'd creep into his room and night and whisper things to him that left him feeling paralysed.

"You let me and Carl down, you let us starve all winter.. What kind of man could do that to his family" she'd whisper quietly, anger prominent in her eyes.

"N-no there was nothin' I could do, I did my best" he'd reply, closing his eyes to fight off the sting of tears.

"Save it. You never really loved me, you just wanted to run away with that redneck, you never wanted me the way you wanted _him_ ", she'd accuse, mouth curling up with disgust.

Rick would try to respond to that but his tongue would feel heavy in his mouth. And before his eyes Lori would slowly bleed into Daryl until it was him leaning down over him looking at him judgementally.

"Look a'you officer, wife only jus' died and yer here fantasising 'bout me, there's somethin' wrong with you" he'd cruelly taunt. At that Rick would feel his eyes well over until his cheeks were wet.

"Some man you are, cryin' over a man who don' wan' you, yer a pathetic excuse of a leader" he'd jab, spurred on by the tears. He would jump awake those nights trying not to cry out, lip bleeding from the force of trying to keep quiet.The worst part was that his nightmares were true.

_He still wanted Daryl._

Not at first when he was overcome with grief, but as the veil of despair slowly lifted, his feelings came back with a vengeance. He felt bad that his wife was barely gone and he was thinking about someone else. Someone he could never have. He had started to pull away from the group, especially the hunter, keeping to himself and he could feel the worried glances of everyone around him. But he just needed to be by himself for a while and grieve. He couldn't face seeing Daryl and feeling the dark coil of want bloom in his chest. Not when his wife had just died.

That wasn't the only thing that had gone wrong since their arrival to the prison. It had just been disaster after disaster since they had arrived. Hershel had been bitten and had to have his leg amputated. It had been touch and go for a while but the relief had been palpable when he finally opened his eyes. Then there had been the threat of the remaining prisoners, Rick had been forced to kill their leader but he had let two, Axel and Oscar, remain in the prison on the condition they kept out of their way. They had ended up being part of the group until their untimely deaths. During the commotion that took Lori's life they had also lost T-dog and Carol which left an aura of despair around the group in the following days. Daryl had eventually discovered Carol alive, weak and dehydrated down in the corridors and brought her back to them. Yet another thing they all owed him, that Rick owed him. He was always coming through for the group. When he found out about what the hunter had done for Judith during his moment of weakness he felt like he just kept owing the man more and more. He knew it would take him several lifetimes to repay him for everything he had done for them. His feelings of worthlessness were further amplified when he thought about how useless he had been after his wife died. He had been drowning in his own despair and hadn't noticed that people needed him. Spending time in that dark dank place answering phone calls from dead people.

When he first met Michonne and she revealed that Glenn and Maggie were taken to Woodbury by none other than Daryl's own brother he had decided it was time to snap out of it and get back in the saddle. The Governor was a real threat against his family and Rick didn't take too kindly to threats against his family. You stood against him and his people you were going to have to be taken out. It was as simple as that. When Rick had taken his group to retrieve Glenn and Maggie from Woodbury, he had brought Michonne with him despite his initial dislike of her. He had no choice as she was his only way in. When he discovered that it was Merle who had tortured Glenn he was furious and if he had been anyone else he would have killed them flat out. No questions asked. But he couldn't do that to Daryl. He had done so much for them. Rick felt a rush of sympathy for him when he saw the look on his face upon discovering his brother was alive but he knew nothing could be done. They had to get out of there. For a minute he thought the younger Dixon wasn't going to follow him and his heart skipped a beat but then he nodded and Rick knew he would listen to him. He always did. He wasn't lying when he told Daryl he needed him, he needed him more than he would ever be able to express. They lost Oscar escaping from Woodbury and there was no time to feel bad due to the panic. Maggie put him down to stop him coming back and that was the only mercy they could spare him. When Rick realised it was only Glenn and Maggie who made it over the fence with him his heart began to hammer in his chest. Movement to the right made him fly around hoping to see the person he wanted to see the most. When it was revealed to be Michonne he flew into a dark rage. He wanted to throttle her where she stood and the urge to hurt her was overwhelming. She had ditched them at the start of their raid and now Daryl was missing. The threats he made her were no hollow promises as him and Maggie went back in to find Daryl, Rick feeling the most awake in that moment that he had felt since Lori died.

When he and Maggie made it back to Glenn and Michonne with Daryl and the older Dixon in turn, he knew immediately that this was not going to end well. Glenn was absolutely furious. Rick felt torn in half. He knew that if he brought Merle back the group would be enraged but if he didn't Daryl would be hurt. He could see emotion dancing behind the hunter's eyes as he weighed his options. When he announced he was leaving with his brother Rick felt his heart leap into throat. He felt like someone had pulled the ground out from underneath him. His hands started to feel shaky and his chest felt constricted as the younger Dixon turned away and he followed him pleading. Not caring if he looked desperate. In that moment he was desperate. Rick should have known it was futile. Once Daryl made his mind up it was impossible to change it. Watching him walk away Rick felt empty. His stomach felt like it had dropped out of him and his mouth felt like sandpaper. He regretted spending so much time pulling away from him over his period of mourning. And now he might never see him again. He spent the drive back to the prison feeling numb, like a light had been switched off inside him, and resentful that Michonne, a perfect stranger, was here with them and Daryl wasn't. He vowed to get rid of her after she was healed. Rick knew that Glenn was annoyed and strung up tight after what had happened to him and Maggie at Woodbury so he forgave him when he went off at him. In that moment he couldn't care less what anyone thought of him, he just felt lost.

Rick would have liked nothing better in that moment than to go sit in his cell and be alone but there was work to be done. He had to decide what to do if the Governor became a real threat. When he got back to the prison he had the unpleasant task of telling Carol about Daryl leaving. He could see the disbelief painted on her face and quite frankly he didn't blame her. It's exactly how he would have looked if it was the opposite way around. Upon seeing her pain he couldn't help but wonder again if there was anything between her and the younger man and he felt tendrils of jealously began to knot his stomach up. He quickly killed those thoughts before they took root. He reasoned it didn't really matter anymore anyway since there was a good chance that neither of them were going to see him ever again. The thought made him feel nauseous. When they informed him about the new group that had found their way to the prison he found it hard to care. He had much more important things to worry about. But he decided to hear them out begrudgingly. Tyreese and his sister Sasha seemed like good people and he was considering letting them stay for a minute. He wasn't expecting to see Lori and have a freak out. He felt her appearing in that moment was his minds way of taunting him. Daryl was gone and so was she. Both of them had forsaken him. He was damned to be alone, maybe he deserved it. His rage burst out and ended up scaring them out of the prison before he could make any decision.

He lay in his cell that night tossing and turning, unable to sleep. The pain eating at his chest made him feel like he was caving in and he wondered how much pain one man could take before they cracked. He had always foolishly believed that Daryl would never leave him. He didn't expect to be so wrong. He hadn't expected it to hurt so much. Without the hunter by his side he felt weaker, his support structure destroyed. His chest hurt and he felt like his lungs had been crushed. He chased sleep for many hours before he caught up to it. Although he almost wished he hadn't bothered. Rick dreamt about being alone in a dark room that night, no one around to hear him no matter how loud he cried out. And that's exactly how he woke up; alone in the dark. The next day he began to see Lori constantly in a loop everywhere he looked. He wasn't crazy. He knew she wasn't real but he had to know what she wanted. Heck, with Daryl gone he almost sought out her company out of sheer loneliness. He followed her out to the graves only to have her disappear after reaching out to him cryptically. When Hershel found him out wandering past the fence he knew how bad he must have looked. Deranged and manic, lack of sleep making him look haggard. He told him about seeing Lori and waited to see the look of scrutiny and worry in his eyes. When he responded it was with surprising kindness. Rick found that that made his heart hurt even more. He explained to him that Glenn was on a rampage trying to fortify the prison against the Governors attack and Hershel was worried he was being reckless. He knew he was putting himself at risk wandering around outside but he couldn't come back until he knew what seeing his dead wife meant. He felt that there was some clarity she could offer him, some insight that he was missing. And that's the reason he was left trapped outside when the group from Woodbury attacked the prison.

The gunfire was raining down on both sides and the courtyard, which had been breached, was swimming with the dead. When Rick's back hit the fence and he was surrounded by walkers he started to think it might be the end. And for a split second he found it hard to muster the enthusiasm to care, if it wasn't for his kids he probably wouldn't have bothered fighting back at all. When the arrow pierced the skull of the walker in front of him he let his heart feel hope again for a brief second. When his eyes found Daryl's and he nodded Rick felt his knees nearly sag in relief. He came back. He noticed he had Merle in tow but he decided to worry about that later. The blood was rushing to his head making him feel euphoric and he just couldn't find the energy to care. After that they managed to fight back the walkers and get safety back to the prison. The courtyard was breached but they were safe for now. They had lost Axel in the fight and Rick couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He had actually been a pretty nice guy in the end. Tensions were high after that, people were frightened after the attack and they were all looking to Rick for guidance. Hershel wanted to leave the minute things calmed down but Rick and Glenn agreed they should stay. If they ran now the Governor could be out there waiting for them and that was a risk they couldn't take. Having Merle in the prison led to feelings of unease and over the next few days he managed to piss off everyone in a 5 mile radius more than once. He learned to grit his teeth and bare it. No way was letting Daryl leave again, not if he could help it. Having him back at his side was what gave him strength and helped him get through the events that were to follow. He felt lighter than he had in ages.

*

 

The fight for the prison had been hard on all of them. When negotiating had proven to be nothing but a pipe dream they were forced to take serious action. Rick didn't want to have to consider handing Michonne over but he just wanted what was best for his family. In the end he just couldn't do it. Unfortunately Merle took the choice out of his hands and decided to hand over Michonne to the Governor himself. Daryl had taken off looking for them and when Rick saw Michonne returning on her own he had an uneasy feeling. He could feel a cold chill settling in his body that had nothing to do with the weather. He knew something bad had happened. When he saw the younger Dixon appear from the forest alone his feelings were confirmed. It turned out that Merle was gone by the time Daryl got to where his brother had been planning to hand Michonne over to the Governor. He had taken out some of his men while he was at it but he was long gone. Daryl had searched for him for hours but eventually he had to admit defeat and returned home with an aura of disappointment emanating off him. Rick gathered that Merle felt he didn't belong in the prison and he couldn't disagree. As much he felt bad for the hunter he knew his brother being there would have ended badly. He just didn't play well with other people. He had obviously just decided to go it on his own, knowing Daryl would never agree to leave the group again. After he returned home there was no talking to him at all for a while. He bit the head off everyone who came within 10 feet of him and eventually retreated to spend the night alone in the guard tower, no doubt battling his own demons. Rick longed to go to him, to soothe his troubled mind and stitch up the wounds in his heart the way he had done for him so many times. The urge to go to Daryl and hold him in his arms was so strong it scared him. 

He struggled with what to do for a few hours before steeling himself for what he planned on doing. As he reached the top of the ladder up to the guard tower he took a deep breath and lifted the hatch. Daryl was stood pressed into the corner, curled into himself so tight it looked like he was trying to disappear. Rick had come to know that feeling a little too well over the winter himself. The younger man flinched when the hatch opened and Rick could see his body was stiff and his body language tense. Rick knew immediately that the hunter was in a bad way when he realised that he hadn't even noticed him coming up the ladder. Normally sneaking up on Daryl was next to impossible, his hearing and instincts were impeccable. Rick pulled himself up and stood watching the younger man's back, starting to lose his nerve once he was actually facing him. He closed his eyes and took a minute to calm his racing pulse as faced the facts. There was no point in being nervous. He knew he would let Daryl punch him repeatedly in the face if that's what it took to make him feel better. He would let him do anything he wanted to him. That was the problem. 

Daryl turned suddenly to level him with a threatening look but not before wiping his eyes roughly with his sleeve. The action made his heart constrict painfully in his chest. The hunter stared him directly in the eye, obviously trying to intimidate him and Rick, to give him some dignity, tried not to notice that his eyes had a faint glisten to them. When he could see he wasn't going to speak first Daryl narrowed his eyes a fraction more.

"What ar' you doin' up 'ere?" he demanded roughly. Rick shrugged, trying to seem casual and took a step forward. This seemed to rub him up the wrong way.

"I don' need ye t' hold m'hand so get outta 'ere" he growled clenching his fists.

"M'not here to "hold yer hand" as you so poetically put it, jus' felt like comin' up here for a while" Rick responded, walking over to sit down against the wall. Daryl was seething, body nearly shaking with anger but he held his ground and maintained eye contact.

"I ain't stupid, I kno' what yer doin' and I don' need yer pity so save it" he bit out breaking eye contact to look at the floor.

"I don' pity you Daryl, I jus' wanna help, I thought you migh' need someone t' talk to" he remarked. The hunters head shot up at that, so fast Rick had nearly missed the movement.

"Don' pretend to care, ye never liked m'brother so don' act like ye did" he hissed, gritting his teeth.

"Y'know wha'? Yer righ', I never liked your brother, he was n' ignorant son of a bitch t' everyone, especially you." Rick responded. Before Daryl could jump in he continued.

"I don' care about Merle, what I care 'bout is you, your my priority. N' I care if your hurtin'. M'sorry if that bothers you but it's the truth, plain n'simple."

There was silence after that for a few seconds while Daryl processed his words. He watched him struggle with something for a minute before he looked down again. When he finally looked up he was chewing the inside of his lip.

"I don' need you t' worry 'bout me, I can take care of myself" he answered with a bit less fire than before.

"I know your well capable of takin' care of yerself, I don' doubt that for a minute. But sometimes we all need a lil' help, I know I sure do. N' you always seem determined t' help me when I need it so I thought I'd return the favour" Rick answered smoothly. Daryl shuffled awkwardly at that. Not knowing what to say. He was terrible when it came to the emotional stuff. Rick decided to save him from answering.

"Look, I ain't asking ye to stand there n' spill all yer feelings t' me. I jus' thought we could sit 'ere and I could keep you company, if that's all righ?" He asked calmly, looking Daryl right in the eye.

After a minute he nodded his approval and slowly came over to sit down beside Rick, averting his eyes towards the wall. It was cold for a near summer night and he felt a chill creep up his arms, regretting the fact that he hadn't brought a jacket. After a few minutes of silence the hunter reached over to grab the blanket from the corner of the room and handed it wordlessly to Rick without looking at him. He accepted it gratefully and wrapped it around his shoulders. A few more minutes passed and he slowly shuffled closer to Daryl. He didn't react so he took it as a sign that it was okay. He nudged the younger man with his shoulder to get his attention. He slowly turned to look at Rick who held out the edge of the blanket to him in a peace offering. After a few seconds of studying his face Daryl relented and moved closer to pull the blanket around himself, moving in closer to the other man. They sat in silence after that for the rest of the night but it wasn't awkward. It was warm and comfortable under the blanket with Daryl and Rick was enjoying the moment while it lasted. His hip was pressed into his and their shoulders brushed as they breath in and out. He fell asleep against Daryl's shoulder that night for the first time since they'd found the prison and he hadn't felt as content in a long time. When he woke in the morning he was gone but he could still smell his scent on the blanket.

The next few days were hard on all of them, they had to plan meticulously for the Governors attack and the prison was a buzzing hive of activity. Rick had decided on a plan with the help of Daryl and Glenn and he was determined to make it work. Hershel was still wary and doubted his judgement, eyes watching his every move. He could tell Hershel was waiting for him to snap again and go running around the prison chasing Lori's ghost, insanity following his every step. Rick was still only on the road to recovery sure, but his family took precedent over his own personal demons. His own pain paled in comparison to his group's collective pains and worries. There was no comparison. They helped him see the world in focus, adding colour where there had previously only been darkness. Rick could tell Carl was upset when he sent him away but he found it hard to feel guilty. He'd rather his son hate him from afar than admire him from the grave. When the Governor came to ambush the prison they were ready and the element of surprise was what tipped the balance in their favour. That day they proved once and for all that teamwork out weighted any amount of gunpowder and muscle. When they gave chase after the Governor and discovered that he had murdered all the people he had brought to the prison they were horrified. This was the true face of insanity, not what Rick had been experiencing over the last few weeks, but true soul rotting insanity. The kind that warped the mind into a twisted dark shape until it barely held any semblance of humanity. Rick found that thought very sobering. Only one woman, Karen, remained and something made them decide to spare her life. When they reached Woodbury and saw the sheer amount of innocent people the Governor had been responsible for crowd the streets in fear they were forced to make a decision. Learn to take a chance on people again or shut them out for good. And as Rick caught the eye of Daryl and he nodded, letting Rick know he was behind him no matter what, he knew that the answer was obvious all along. 

 

*

The last few weeks had been peaceful enough he thought as headed down to breakfast. The Woodbury people were easy enough to get along with; they were all polite and hard working so Rick couldn't complain. Tyreese and Sasha had ended up being a vital part of the group and he had grown to respect them a lot. The same went for Michonne. When Rick saw how much of a shine Carl had taken to her it made him warm up to her. She was a capable warrior and easy to get along with once her walls were lowered. Much like his favourite hunter. Rick had spent so many weeks stressing and worrying over everything that he hadn't had time to lust over the younger man and for that he had been grateful in a twisted way. For the first few weeks at the prison he had been able to pretend he and Daryl could just be friends without his feelings getting in the way. Then, a week after the Woodbury people settled in, he had one of those twisted sexual dreams about him again. The lust hadn't disappeared; it had just been buried under more important matters. It left him waking up aching with want and covered in perspiration. He couldn't bear to touch himself, that would make it too real. He woke most mornings painfully hard and just lay there willing it away before he got up. One morning after a particularly explicit dream he knew he was going to just have to deal with it. The lust was pooling in his stomach and he knew he couldn't ignore it any longer. His fingers had begun to drift down into boxers before he even realised what was happening. As he took himself in hand he tried to think about anything but Daryl, anything at all. He knew he wasn't going to last, it had been too long. The closer he got to the edge the harder it got to not picture him looking up at him, touching him, calling out his name. He felt pleasure start to build at the base of spine and his stomach tightened painfully. It was with these thoughts he tipped over the edge, pleasure white hot and almost unbearable. As he spilled over his stomach he bit his knuckles hard to stifle a gasp. That was the first time Rick touched himself and thought about the hunter. He had never had such an intense orgasm by himself. And it wouldn't be the last. He lay there panting for a while afterwards wondering how he could face Daryl later that day. He learned to live with it though; just another mark of shame upon his already tainted conscience. 

As he entered the hall where everyone was eating breakfast he found his eyes unconsciously seeking Daryl out. They were always doing that lately. He had tried to stop but it was fruitless, he couldn't help himself. He also couldn't control the flicker of disappointment he felt when he noticed he wasn't present. Rick usually sat and had his breakfast with him most mornings but he guessed he had slept in for too long this time. He sat and ate his breakfast quietly, noticing that Beth and Judith weren't present either; she must have been fussing this morning. He stayed seated for a while after he'd finished eating and studied the scenes of people going through the motions of life around him. He had decided late last night that today was the day he buried these misplaced feelings of lust. Fantasising about Daryl was pointless. Nothing was ever going to come from it. If he kept acting strange around him he'd spoil their friendship and that was something he wasn't willing to do. He reasoned that it shouldn't be that hard. He'd experienced lust before and that was all it was. A pointless crush. It wasn't doing either of them any good and he had to nip it in the bud now before it did any damage. With a feeling of determination (reluctantly) flowing though him he swung off the bench and steeled himself for the day ahead. He headed out into the yard to start his morning work with the sun beating down onto him and ran into Beth on the way.

"Mornin'" she greeted brightly, a smile never far from her face. She was a pleasant girl, good at getting everyone's spirits up at the worst of times.

"Mornin' Beth, where's Judith gone to?" he asked as he slowed down.

"Daryl has her, she was kickin' up a proper fuss, I'm off to grab 'er bottle" she answered. "Sides, y'know he always keeps her quiet" she added grinning as she bustled off towards the prison.

Rick couldn't argue with that. Daryl seemed to have a way with Judith; she had really taken to him. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but something about Daryl changed when he was around Judith, he became softer somehow. He kept walking down towards the patch of crops they'd set up and greeted Tyreese who was already shovelling. They were planting crops for the summer months to stockpile over the winter and there was plenty of work to be done. Large groups of people were up wandering around the courtyard, women hanging out the washing, kids playing. Rick noticed Daryl out of the corner of his eye, holding his daughter and talking to Carol. He pulled his eyes away quickly before they could focus, a spark of reluctance coursing through his veins at that decision. He had decided to give up on that endeavour. He had no reason to stare at him aimlessly. He was done with that. 

Then Rick heard the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard, Daryl laughing, eyes fixed on Judith in his arms gurgling happily as several onlookers gawked at the hunter in shock. He whipped his head around and stood transfixed, for that sound was more awe inspiring and melodic than any song or hymn in the world and he thought back to the winter when he first heard it. The group was at its lowest point and everyone had hit rock bottom emotionally. Rick had been trudging through the street with Glenn, Daryl and T-Dog, trying to see was there anything worth salvaging around. He remembered the oppressive feeling of despair that hung over them all. In that moment he was so desperate to lift the mood that he decided to try and crack a terrible joke based on something he saw in one of the shop windows. He can't seem to recall what he even said now. It felt like so many lifetimes ago. And that right there is his biggest regret. That he can't remember that joke. At first only T-Dog let out a snort, obviously being a fan of terrible jokes, but Rick wasn't complaining, even that made the radio silence from the rest of them bearable.

But then out of nowhere Daryl started to laugh, it was a quiet, breathy sound that made all three of them swing around to look at him and eventually coaxed all of them to join in, more in shock than true amusement. When the younger man looked at him and smirked, declaring it the worst joke he'd ever heard Rick could only nod dumbly. Because it was by far the most amazing sound he'd ever heard. It stirred something in him that left him feeling a bit overwhelmed and he already knew he'd do anything to hear it again. Standing there in the prison yard he decided that it had only sounded better the second time. And when Daryl looked up suddenly and caught him watching, he fixed him with an amused look, smirk playing around his mouth as if to point out to Rick that he'd been caught staring at him. And it was in that moment, staring at the incredible man holding his daughter, that Rick knew he was so screwed.

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all I would like to thank you all so much for the positive response to chapter 1. I was so overwhelmed by all the lovely notes and it really encouraged me to get this chapter out as quick as possible. I'm sorry if this chapter was a bit boring but I felt I should show some of the events of season 3 pre-Woodbury so you can see what frame of mind Rick is in. I didn't bother going into too much detail about The Governor attacking because I didn't feel like it had too much impact on either main characters development. I was more interested in events that led to character development for Rick and Daryl. As for why Merle is alive.. Don't even ask me because I haven't decided what to do with him. He might end up never coming back but I thought I'd leave my options open. From the next chapter onwards the Rickyl action will really begin. Hope to hear from you again soon!


	3. Pugna

If he had been hoping to overcome his feelings over time he could only say that he was failing admirably. Every day he woke up claiming that today was the day he'd get a grip and move on and everyday he caught himself either staring openly at Daryl or doing or saying something stupid to him. He was afraid that any second he was going to transform into a schoolboy with a crush and start giggling when he spoke to him. The thought was enough to make him shudder as he peeled himself out of his warm bed to face the day. As he trudged down to the showers that particular morning he found he actually wasn't dreading the thought of having to take cold showers anymore. He needed them to clear his head at this point, and they also helped with the other unfortunate side effect that seemed to coincide with him thinking about the younger man for too long. As he shrugged out of his clothes and stepped under the cool spray he found himself barely holding back a yelp, the sting of the water still making him jump after experiencing it so many times. 'Just like Daryl' he mused bitterly. He thought if he just indulged his fantasies for a while his body would be satisfied and adjust to these misplaced feelings and his lust would disappear into the darker corners of his mind and fade away. He reasoned that it had just been so long since he had felt another human being's touch. And because he had such a strong bond with Daryl and his body was so starved of physical contact it had just become desperate and confused and decided to latch on to him for some reason. It had nothing to do with the fact that he had a face that was oddly captivating despite his unusual features and that his smile made Rick's stomach do somersaults. And it definitely had nothing do with the fact he had a rather incredible body, definitely not, no matter how strong and powerful he looked. As his thoughts headed south so did his blood and he had to fight off the feeling of arousal before it blossomed. He had already spent far too long pleasuring himself to thoughts of Daryl's hands and mouth on him the night before to even consider allowing himself to do it again. As he started to feel himself stiffen he turned off the water and got dressed quickly, burying the feelings down.

 

Heading down to breakfast he finally had himself under control and he decided he was going to do his best to act normal around the hunter today. Because, no matter what, Daryl was his best friend before any other feelings fought their way to the surface of his thoughts and he wasn't going to let anything come between them. Especially not his own actions and feelings. The dining area was always packed since the Woodbury people had arrived and no table went unused. They all mostly sat in groups that they had formed since before they had arrived at the prison. They had picked up a few survivors on the road during runs over the last month or so and they were slowly finding their place in the prison. One such person was Bob. He was a pleasant enough man with knowledge in medicine that had come in handy more than once.  Rick noticed him taking a shine to Sasha and hoped that they could find some happiness together in their fucked up little world. They had also gained a doctor amongst the Woodbury group so health wise they were doing better than ever. Most of their group still preferred to be seen by Hershel when it came to less serious injuries, the habit sticking after months of having only him to depend on. Rick took his usual seat at his table, the original group from the farm sticking together. Although, they had expanded to include Michonne, Sasha and Tyreese. Carl was seated on the bench across from him and he smiled briefly up at him before going to back to devouring his food. Ever since the group had settled in he had taking to wolfing down his food without a second thought. Rick figured he should be happy about his enthusiasm but he knew deep down he only ate like that because he was waiting for the day something went wrong and they were without food again. And Rick found it so disheartening that his child lived with such pessimism hanging over his shoulders and for a minute his heart felt heavy with the thoughts of the childhood Carl was missing out on. Before he could dwell too much on it he felt the bench shift beside him and the source of his other problems was pressed up beside him, heat suddenly suffocating him. Rick almost wondered for a minute if Daryl had figured out his feelings and was trying to drive him mad on purpose before forcing himself to realize that the bench wasn’t big enough to fit them all so the closeness was unintentional. After two or three minutes of starting aimlessly at his food, lost in his own thoughts, it dawned on him that he had taken way too long to acknowledge Daryl so he took a steadying breath before turning to face him. He was surprised to find the hunter was already studying him with his head cocked, eyes narrowed slightly. Rick was startled to catch him looking at him and his words escaped him for a minute, everything he wanted to say sounded clumsy and heavy on his tongue. And the fact that there wasn't an inch between their bodies didn't help at all. Having the younger man’s full attention on him made him fidget in his seat and he couldn’t think of anything funny or witty to say to break the tension he had unwittingly caused by being unable to form a sentence. Daryl had the most intense eyes and Rick couldn't help but find himself wondering if they looked this like in other situations that involved a lot less clothes. Before he let those thoughts go any further he decided to blurt out the first thing that came to mind.

“Mornin'” he muttered feebly and internally kicked himself for taking so long to come up with something so useless.

Daryl looked at him for a few seconds longer with a questioning look in his eye before breaking eye contact and gazing back down at his food. Rick found himself feeling strangely bereft without the hunters gaze upon him.

“Y’ok there? You look awful sick or somethin” the younger man said after chewing thoughtfully on his food for a minute.  Rick knew then that his lack of response to the younger man's arrival had obviously caused suspicion, hence the staring. Rick took a mouthful of his food before answering, giving himself time to look nonchalant.

“M'fine, guess I jus' didn't sleep very well” he mused, almost as if he was talking to himself.

“Oh? Somethin' botherin' ya?, the hunter asked, turning to look at him again, concern visible in his eyes although he tried to look just as aloof as Rick was trying to appear. “Nah, nothin' in particular, was jus' cold I guess” he said while picking at his food, hoping to steer the conversation back to some sense of normalcy.

Daryl snorted at that before looking back at his plate. “Don' think anyone can help ya there unless yer expectin' someone t'come and spoon ya” he jibed, arm brushing off Rick's and sending a chill up his spine. 

“You offerin’?” Rick found himself teasing before he could stop himself.

He sneaked a quick look out of the corner of his eye when Daryl didn't immediately answer him only to find him with his fingers in his mouth. The action never failed to make his mouth go dry. Daryl had a terrible habit of eating with his hands, no doubt something he had learned in his childhood, and it drove Rick insane. Watching him suck on them never failed to give him impure thoughts and he found himself swallowing audibly. It had probably only been seconds since he asked the question but the moment seemed to drag on tortuously slow before the hunter finally turned to look at him again with a trace of amusement in his eyes.

“In yer dreams, get t' work there Officer” he said pushing back off the bench and slapping him on the shoulder. 

Rick didn't know if he was relieved or disappointed to lose the feeling of the younger man’s body burning into him. Deciding distraction was the best thing for him he said goodbye to Carl who was having an animated conversation with Patrick, a teen from Woodbury, and headed out to get some farming work done while it was still warm out. It was a heavy day and a blanket of heat seemed to be bearing down on them, not the faintest trace of a breeze to be found. He already knew that it was going to be a hard day’s work in the oppressive warmth and he hoped it would be enough to keep his thoughts occupied. He had a run to go on the following day so he had to make sure he got everything done before heading out.  Daryl had wanted to go with him but he had said no, purely because he needed a break from fantasizing about him for a few hours. He felt bad that he was turning him away because of his own sick desires but he couldn't help but be selfish. He needed the space being outside the prison offered. He tried to push down the memories of the look on the hunters face when Rick refused him, it was a mixture of surprise and confusion, maybe even a little hurt, although he tried to ignore that bit to make himself feel better. Selfishness seemed to have become a terrible new part of his personality when it came to Daryl, in more ways than one. He had no doubt he would try to convince him to take him a long again before they headed out but he would have to deal with that when it happened.

Carol was kneeling amongst the dirt when he neared her and she offered him a small smile from across the yard before wiping her hand across her forehead, sweat apparent on her brow. Rick still found himself astonished when he thought about the progress Carol had made since the day he met her. She had gone from being a woman who would jump at a door slamming to someone who could hold her own. Despite her usually sweet demeanour she had the underlying ferocity of a woman who would have no problem calling you on your shit. Rick knew if anyone in this group was a survivor it was this woman. And quite frankly, they would be lost without her. She was truly the mother of the group, always on hand with some words of wisdom, gentle encouragement and, if needs be, a few stern words. The younger children from Woodbury had really taken to her and followed her around like a line of ducklings in her spare time.

Rick spent most of the morning digging and planting seeds until his hands and knees were filthy and his shoulders throbbed from exhaustion. By the time he was done working lunch was well over and he could see Michonne sitting at one of the outdoor tables they had set up, Carl sitting by her with his mouth running a mile per minute. Rick found himself wondering how a woman he had initially wrote off as near mute could put up with his sons often overbearing level of enthusiasm when it came to conversation. Still, she seemed to be interested in what he had to say, grin suddenly splitting her face at whatever he was talking about. Something about Carl got her to open up and he had really taken a shine to her. Rick couldn't help but think that these days his son seemed to have taken to admiring everyone but him. He longed to go sit in the shade over by the table but felt a prickle of guilt at the thought of leaving any work undone. As if sensing his inner dilemma, Carol appeared by his side with a bemused look on her face.

“Y'know you've been working nonstop all morning, haven't seen you take a break for as much as a sip of water” she pondered out loud like she was talking to someone else other than Rick, eyes following his over to the table where Carl was seated. Rick couldn't help but feel a smile tug at the corner of his lips at her mothering.

“Jus' don't like shirking my responsibilities is all” he answered, shrugging and fixing her with a quick smile.

“You've done enough, go sit down and relax” she nudged, glancing pointedly over at Carl.

“Y'sure you can handle the rest?” he asked, trying to ignore the nag of worry that seemed to constantly hang over him since the day he decided to become the unofficial leader of their little group. Like everything was his burden to bear.

“You saying I can't handle it?” she teased, corner of her mouth twitching up in a smile as she crossed her arms.

Before Rick could answer she was patting him on the arm and shoving him forward. “I'm sure, now get going before I change my mind!” she ordered briskly.

“Yes ma'am” he relented, setting off towards the shade before he could talk himself out of it.

Rick washed his hands quickly in the bucket of water they'd set aside especially for cleaning up before taking a seat on the bench in front of Carl. Michonne had wandered off while he was washing up and Carl was now sat silently, eyes fixated on the gun in front of him as he took it apart. He looked surprised to see he had sat down and a shot out a quick “Hey Dad” before dropping his eyes again and refocusing his attention. Rick couldn't help but feel a strange tugging sensation in his heart when he listened to the other kids running around playing, and here his son was cleaning a gun.

“That's awful boring work to be doin' on a day like today, would you not rather go and do somethin' with the other kids?” Rick probed, trying for casual. He must have strayed a little too far into 'concerned father territory' because Carl glanced up at him with a look that suggested he must have hit his head.

“No? This is way more useful than kid's games” he explained with a long suffering look.

“It migh' be more useful, there's no denyin' that, but in case y'have forgotten, you are a kid” he answered easily, trying not to provoke one of Carl's famous bad tempers that seemed to be getting more and more common.

He could see he was close to failing. “I'm not a little kid anymore, you know what I'm capable of” he said coolly, brim of his hat casting a shadow over his eyes as wiped the gun with a bit more force. _The boy._

How could he forget? When Hershel had told him about Carl killing the young boy he had been slightly horrified to think his son could shoot an unarmed teenager not much older than himself. The world they lived in was starting to strip his son of his humanity and innocence faster than a vulture stripped a carcass and the thought made his stomach churn uncomfortably. He hated having to play the bad guy but he knew he couldn't leave it at that.

“Y'know, killin' people isn't always necessarily the righ' call in every situation Carl” he implored, leaning forward onto his arms, sweat causing his shirt to stick to his back in a restricting manner.

At that Carl simply shrugged like they were discussing the weather.

“I don't get what the big deal is Dad, you n' Daryl have killed people and no one gives you trouble about it” he muttered back sullenly.

Just as Rick opened his mouth to rebuff him he felt hands come to rest abruptly on the back of his seat, bracketing his shoulders on both sides.

“S' not polite ta talk 'bout people when they're not around kid” Daryl quipped sardonically from behind him.

Carl had enough sense to sit up straight and stop what he was doing when the hunter spoke to him, cheeks turning faintly red. Rick himself felt like doing the opposite and slouching forward more to put distance between them. His decision was pretty much taken from him when Daryl leaned forward more so Rick could feel the heat from his chest warming his back, head only a few inches above his own. He suddenly started to feel like he was burning up more than before but he suspected that it had nothing to do with the weather. Time seemed to move slower the closer the hunter got to him and he must have zoned out because next thing he knew Daryl was flopping down ungracefully onto the bench beside him and the moment was over. He had a feeling the younger man had said something to him but his ears had just stop ringing so he decided to nod and hope it was a satisfactory answer. He was brought back to reality with a crash when the hunter suddenly heaved the crossbow down loudly onto the table in front of him.

“Yer awful jumpy today, y'sure yer not sick r'somethin?” he asked throwing him a sideways glance. Rick shook his head slightly.

“No m'fine, jus' in a world of m'own” he answered lamely, praying his conversational skills would return to him soon from wherever they seemed to fade away to when Daryl spoke to him.

“Well ye migh' wanna come back soon 'fore you start worryin' everyone with yer spacin' out” the hunter reprimanded, a look Rick couldn't quite place lurking on his face.

“Yer righ', don' want folks thinking I've gone mad” he replied with a half halfhearted smile. Daryl snorted at that.

“They already think yer mental so I wouldn' worry 'bout that”.

Rick elbowed him playfully in the side as Carl tried to stifle a laugh, the movement unwittingly causing them to edge closer together than before. Hearing Carl snickering seemed to remind Daryl that he was present and he suddenly snapped his eyes in his direction, causing him to stop abruptly.

“Don' think yer getting' away so easily, what was that I heard ye yammerin' on about a minute ago” he commanded, pulling a cloth from his pocket and wiping his crossbow down methodically.

“Can you show me how to do that?” Carl questioned while leaning forward slightly, eyes alight with interest at what the hunter was doing.

“Answer the question n' I'll think 'bout it” he fired back without pausing what he was doing. Carl deflated a bit at that and heaved out a sigh before answering.

“My dad was saying that it was wrong of me to shoot that boy and that killing people isn't always the right thing to do. But I was just saying that you n' him have killed people and no one gets on your case about it” he stated petulantly, looking more his age for once.

Daryl paused what he was doing at that and placed the crossbow down on the bench beside him, studying Carl calculatingly for a minute. Rick could see him fidgeting under the intense gaze and Rick couldn't blame him, he'd been on the receiving end of it enough to know how it felt.

“N' y'know what? Yer Daddy's absolutely righ”, you can't jus' go round killin' people cause you feel like it, that ain't righ” he stated in a matter of fact tone, leg pressing against Ricks a bit more firmly for a minute.

“What about the people you've both killed?” Carl challenged, looking like he regretting opening his mouth pretty much straight away when he remembered who he was talking to.

“That's different, sometimes ye have no choice if ye have to keep yerself or other people safe, but you can't jus' kill whoever ye wan'” Daryl answered, remaining surprisingly calm considering Carl's cheek, although Rick could see the warning in his eye not to push his luck.

Rick himself was starting to feel a bit less calm because Daryl had placed his arm on the table right beside Rick's so they were perfectly aligned and pressed together, warmth starting to flow down towards his fingertips. His arm was tanned from many hours of working in the sun and Rick found it unbearably distracting pressing against his own.

“Why's that?” Carl asked, looking resigned to the fact that he had lost the argument. Rick forgot what they were talking about for a minute due to the momentary distraction that was Daryl Dixon but when said distraction started to open his mouth again he remembered.

“Because if ye went 'round killin' whoever ye pleased you'd be no different than them motherless fuckers out there” the hunter said firmly, indicating the topic wasn't up for discussion.

“Language” Rick chided, nudging his leg under the table with his causing a spark of warmth to spread up as far as his thigh.

“Sorry yer Highness” he shot back in a good humored tone, not bothering to move his leg back to create distance between them.

Rick sometimes couldn't believe that the man sitting beside him was the same person he had met just over a year ago. If anyone had told him he'd be playfully nudging the Daryl from Atlanta with his leg he would have presumed he'd be losing it pretty quickly for daring to do something like that. At the same time though; it made sense in a sad way. It didn't take too much to realize that Daryl had probably led a very lonely life growing up. So in a weird way, he was probably starved for physical affection without really realizing it. And that was so utterly depressing to Rick that it made him want to pull the other man against his chest tightly and make up for the years of contact and comfort he more than likely missed out on. He never would though, he knew better than to push too far and risk losing what he already had.

As Daryl sat and chatted away amicably to his son, showing him the proper way to clean a crossbow, Rick found himself watching him openly out of the corner of his eyes. At this point he didn't know why he bothered. He probably knew the hunters face better than he knew his own by now. His intense eyes, his mouth that looked temptingly soft, his nose that wasn't quite symmetrical but was still perfect for his face and most of all, that beauty mark that he still found astounding simply because he couldn't comprehend how someone so masculine could even have something as delicately named as a “beauty mark” on his face. He could even tell that his hair had grown a bit, curling more around the nape of his neck, drawing attention to flesh that Rick would like nothing more than to lean over and trace with his mouth. As Rick sat and listened to the conversation bouncing back and forth around him he felt the telltale tendrils of lust start to creep in and wind themselves around his thoughts, changing his body from relaxed to tense in a matter of seconds. His blood started to heat up and Daryl's body pressed against his went from being companionable and comfortable to maddening in a matter of seconds. By the time dinner rolled around he was so wound up that he grabbed his food from the dining area and retreated quickly to his cell before anyone could question his decision.  As he lay in bed that night he tossed and turned but everywhere he looked he saw a familiar blue and his mind was plagued with the sound of laughter that made his heart ache with longing.

 

*

 

It became very apparent to Rick that he had slept in too late when he awoke to sunlight streaming into his cell and a complete lack of noise inside that indicated everyone was up and out already. Cursing he dressed quickly, hoping he had enough time to eat before heading out. His stomach had felt uncomfortable and knotted the night before and he had barely managed half his food before climbing into bed and pulling the covers over his head. The empty cells he passed on the way across to the dining room confirmed that he was last out of bed. He berated himself silently and he knew he was going to have a get a grip soon. If pining over Daryl was going to affect other aspects of his life he was really going to have to put an end to it. The dining area was basically empty when he reached it, a few people from Woodbury being the only occupants left. He wolfed down his breakfast which didn't exactly make his stomach feel fantastic but he knew it was his own fault. By the time he got outside he could see Glenn and Maggie leaning against the car down by the gates, obviously waiting for him. He was just about to set off towards them when he spotted a certain someone approaching out of the corner of his eye. Of course. Daryl wasn't going to let him leave without trying to convince him one last time to bring him.

“Rick?” he called out, ruining his last minute plan to start power walking ahead and hope he thought he hadn't noticed him.

“Yeah, what's up?” he answered, crossing his arms and trying to appear casual and in control. Rick could see Daryl was battling with his thoughts, he knew this because he always chewed the inside of his lip when he had something to say. Rick didn't know if he should be pleased that he knew that. Finally, he seemed to come to some inner conclusion and he looked Rick in the eye, scanning his face quickly for something.

 “Y'sure ye don' wan' me to come along?” he questioned with a tone in his voice that Rick couldn't quite place. He would like to have claimed it was concern but he didn't want to get his hopes too high that Daryl spent a lot of time worrying about him. He knew that realistically he wanted nothing more than for the hunter to be with him every minute of the day if he was being pathetically honest but that was the reason he had to say no, he needed a break.

“M'sure, I need you here t' keep an eye on things, especially with all the new people after arrivin', need t' make sure no one acts up while we're gone” Rick said in the most convincing tone he could muster, lie rolling off his tongue. He could tell Daryl was unhappy with his answer but clearly his respect for him was even greater than he thought because after a minute of staring him down he relented and gave the tiniest of nods. 

“If y' say so” he muttered adjusting the strap of his crossbow and shuffling his weight to the opposite side. Daryl always trusted his opinion.

“Good, makes me happy t' know you have my back” Rick said in a cheerful voice that was 100% fake, patting the hunter on the shoulder briefly before stepping around him and walking on, a twinge of regret in his chest. He didn't dare look back the whole way out the gate because he was afraid that if he did his resolve would crumble and start to chip away. He just prayed that he would forgive him for leaving him behind later. He shouldn't have got his hopes up.

 

*

 

They were only supposed to be gone a few hours so technically speaking no one could complain, they were back within the day, just not with any daylight left. Rick's lower body felt like jelly as Glenn reached in to help him out of the back seat of the car. As he put his weight on his legs he felt his stomach lurch a bit due to the stabbing pain in his back and he had no doubt in that moment that if it wasn't for Glenn's hand steadying him he would have went down from the shock of it. There was a moment of awkward manoeuvring in which Glenn wrapped Rick's arm around his shoulder and then they were moving at a painfully slow, awkward pace. Rick felt like he had been kicked in the head repeatedly and there was an unrelentingly throbbing behind his temples that had taken up residence in the last hour or two. He could hear activity and people talking around him but his eyes were only seeking out one person. One very furious person who was making a beeline towards him looking like he was going to sooner knock his teeth out of his head than offer any kind of concern. He could hear him muttering under his breath angrily but it wasn't until he got in earshot of him that he could make out what he was saying.

“Stupid bastard” seemed to be his main message from what Rick could make out.  “What the fuck is he after doin' this time?” Daryl practically growled at Glenn. To his credit he didn't flinch, he was well used to the infamous Dixon temper by now. Although Rick took some pretty major offense to the fact that Daryl was talking about him like he wasn't there.

“It's my fault, I was being careless. A walker came up behind me and I didn't notice until the last second, if it wasn't for Rick I'd be dead...” Glenn answered trailing off. Rick could tell he was still in shock over his close call, and knowing Glenn's level of compassion he was probably also feeling pretty guilty that he had got hurt saving him. Maggie sensed Glenn's inner turmoil and stepped in to finish.

“There wasn't much time to react, so Rick sorta just, tackled it” she replied softly, still pretty shocked herself from the fright of nearly losing the man she loved. “

He got that hurt tackling a walker?” Daryl asked flatly, all emotion seemed to have escaped him.

“Down a staircase” Maggie added quietly and quickly, already prepared for the anger she no doubt knew was about to come, smart girl.

Daryl stared at Rick with a silent rage in his eyes before closing the gap between them and yanking him forward out of Glenn's grip, force nearly causing him to fall over. Before Rick could form the words to protest Daryl had yanked him around and was hiking up the back of his shirt violently to inspect the damage. Rick was quick to react, survival instincts kicking in like they would outside the prison and he knew Daryl probably only got to see the edge of the massive bruise he was currently sporting before he had twisted around to face him again. Unfortunately, the jerking motion caused him to graze the wound on his lip with his teeth and he let out a hiss of pain as the cut reopened and started to bleed freely down his chin. Daryl's hand shot out quick as a viper and he seized Rick's jaw between his thumb and forefinger none too gently, pulling him forward to inspect the cut with narrowed eyes. This time he didn't have the energy or the strength to pull away so he remained in place, eyes almost daring Daryl to say something.

“Yer one _stupid_ motherfucker” he bit out, releasing Rick roughly and causing him to stagger back a step or two. The icy look in his eyes froze any smart remark that Rick had on the tip of his tongue. It was the kind of look that he found painful to have directed at him by Daryl.  The hunter’s hands shook slightly as he clenched his fists and he plowed on with fury lacing his voice, coating his words with venom.

“Are y' out of yer mind? What were y' thinkin'? No wait, I'll answer that, ye obviously _weren't_ thinkin'!”

Rick couldn't put into words how little he felt standing there and having Daryl, the man who always had his back, doubt him and question his competence.

 “I mean, seriously Rick, I don' think y' should be goin' out on runs if yer gonna be that reckless, maybe stick t'yer farmin'” Daryl said sounding frustrated, body wound up so tight it looked near ready to explode. That sentence hurt more than any injury that Rick had ever gotten, self-inflicted or otherwise. He had lost Daryl's respect, months of progress circling the drain like a black hole which threatened to suck the foundations of their relationship away with it. This is why he found he suddenly couldn’t keep his mouth shut, anger bubbling up inside him, threatening to burst out at the seams.

“Thats not yer call t' make, las' I checked you weren't in charge around here” Rick shot back cooly, voice soft but sharp. He could see Daryl's face closing off at that, all familiarity slipping away under his mask of cool indifference, the same mask he had worn back in Atlanta.

“Oh ye'? Well that's a good thing fer y' 'cause if I was in charge I wouldn't trust y' with a pair of fuckin' scissors!” he growled out through gritted teeth before turning sharply on his heel and making his way to the guard tower, anger radiating from his body in waves.

Rick felt like he had taken a blow to the stomach, as he watched Daryl storm off all anger suddenly left him and he felt deflated, his knees sagging for a moment before Glenn grabbed his elbow and steadied him. There was a moment of heavy silence as the three of them soaked in what had happened. Then Glenn cleared his throat causing Rick to look at him.

“Rick, don't let what he said get to you, he doesn't mean a word of it, you know that” he intoned gently, imploring him with his eyes. Rick let out a bitter huff of breath at his statement, feeling lower in that moment than he'd ever felt in his whole life.

“I think he made it pretty clear wha' he thinks of me” he sighed, hoping his companions couldn't see just how deep the hunters words had cut him.

“And I'm telling you he didn't mean any of it, he was just scared” Glenn replied, voice firmer than it had been the first time he had spoken.

“Scared? I doubt it, what would he hav' t'be scared about?” Rick responded tonelessly. Glenn was also starting to reach the stage of exasperation with him if his face was anything to go by. Sensing that he wasn't properly getting the message across, Maggie stepped in, speaking in a calm voice.

“He was scared 'cause you got hurt Rick, he coulda' lost you and he wasn't there t'help”.

Rick turned his head to study her, looking for a sign on her face that she was just saying what she thought might cheer him up. He saw nothing but genuine concern.

“I wouldn't be so sure 'bout that” he muttered quietly.

“Trust me, wait an' see, he'll come 'round” Maggie stated in a matter of fact tone, placing her hand on his shoulder and squeezing. As he ambled back to the prison, Glenn supporting him along the way, he couldn't help but cast his eyes in the direction of the guard tower and soak up the feeling of bitter numbness that enveloped him when he taught of how Daryl had looked at him.

 

*

 

It had been two days since Rick's accident and Daryl hadn't come within a hundred feet of him once since their last conversation. The agony of that hurt much more than the physical wounds upon his body, at least he had painkillers for that. He spent the majority of his time over that period buried in his blanket, heart aching from the apparent loss of one of the people most precious to him. Hershel had told him he wasn't allowed to leave the prison until he had rested for at least two days. The painkillers had dulled the majority of the pain in his back and head but the veterinarian was still convinced that bed rest was the best cure for every ailment. Rick found he couldn't complain too much, he wasn't too thrilled about the thought of encountering Daryl so he'd gladly take another day to recover and lick his wounds. He couldn't shake the horrible dull feeling that had made a home in his chest the night Daryl had spoken to him with such disdain. It made his limbs feel heavy and useless, it made him feel useless. He knew that things between him and Daryl were in tatters but he still felt his stomach flutter and twitch whenever he heard footsteps coming towards his cell, hoping to hear that familiar voice and feel the comforting warmth of his body near his. Every time it wasn't him he felt himself sink a bit more inside himself, drowning in his own thoughts, unable to swim to the surface. He couldn't help but hold out hope that Daryl might come around but he started to doubt that the more he received status updates from the group. When Glenn had come to see him the morning after his accident he had looked at him hopefully, praying that Daryl would have calmed down overnight and was acting more rationally. His hopes were pretty much shot down when he informed him that he and Carol had found one of the library tables overturned that morning. No one saw who did but it didn't take a genius to guess who it might have been and why.

Rick had begun to find solace in the form of Judith. Being that he was on bed rest he figured he had no reason not to take care of her for a while and give Beth a break. She was about the only thing that could put a smile on his face those days. As he lay in bed cradling her to his chest he felt his heart start to thaw a bit, the love he felt for his daughter caressing the abused muscle like the embers from a candle. She made him want to be a better person, and that’s when he decided that no matter what reaction awaited him when he emerged to face his problems he wouldn’t let it drag him down. He had people who depended on him; he had to be strong for them. With or without Daryl to back him up, he had to go on. Tapping on the bars of his cell roused him from his daydreams and he saw Beth standing in the doorway, tentative smile on her face, obviously nervous that she had disturbed him.

“M'sorry if I bothered ya', I just thought I'd take Judith down for her dinner if that's ok?” she asked softly.

“'Course, no bother, thank you” he responded quickly to reassure her, holding Judith out towards her. She smiled and moved forwards, taking Judith out of his arms ever so gently.

She was so good with her; Rick really hoped that maybe one day in the future she could have her own kids. His heart gave a short twinge of sadness when he thought about how that might not happen, their world was so uncertain now.

“Thank you” he called out suddenly, causing Beth to stop in the doorway and turn around to look at him.

“It’s fine I don' mind feeding her” she said bouncing Judith onto her hip.

“No I mean, for everythin', you've been like a mother t' her, I don' no how I could ever repay you” he replied, feeling slightly emotional when he thought about Judith's actual mother.

“It's no problem Rick, I love this lil' girl, she's bout the only good thing to come out of this hell” she responded gazing at Judith for a minute before looking back at Rick and smiling gently. He did his best to respond in kind despite the hollow feeling in his chest. Beth hesitated for a minute, shuffling her feet before deciding to say what she was obviously thinking.

“About Daryl, don't take it t' heart, you know he loves you Rick, your pretty much the only family he's got left. I mean I know he's got all of us too but, no one is closer t'him than you, don't deny it” she stated firmly, determination apparent on her face. Rick didn't know what to say to that so he just opted to stare at the ground.

“Give it time” Beth added gently before turning and walking out of the cell. As Rick lay down, tucking his arm under his head, he found himself hoping that they were right.

When he awoke later that evening he felt extremely disorientated, no clue of how long he'd been asleep. It was dark out and it took a moment for him to pinpoint what exactly had woken him up but as his ears suddenly adjusted to the sounds of his daughter wailing he quickly put two and two together. His head was throbbing badly, painkillers obviously wearing off, and he was struggling to open his eyes and pull himself out of bed. When he finally managed to crack his eyes open a fraction he was greeted with a view of the cell wall. He was just about to turn over and pull himself out of bed when he heard a voice that set his heart hammering. Daryl.

“Shhh, I gotcha” he heard him whisper, the sound of fabric rustling alerting Rick to the fact he had picked her up. He struggled to keep his breathing even so not to alert the younger man to the fact he was awake and listened to him whisper nonsense to her for a minute in an effort to soothe her cries. He knew it was stupid and reckless but he wanted to see him, to make sure he wasn't imagining it. With this thought spurring him on he rolled over, eyes clamped shut in the hopes that Daryl would just think he was adjusting in his sleep. He heard the younger man still halfway through his sentence as he moved. Rick could feel eyes burning into him and he fought the urge to open his and gaze upon the man who occupied the majority of his waking thoughts. After a minute he heard the younger man start to speak again and Judith let out a pathetic wining sound.

'Gotta be quiet sweetheart, gonna wake yer Daddy, God knows he needs his rest after getting' his stupid ass hurt again” he whispered, voice muffled against what Rick presumed to be Judith’s head. He couldn't wait a second longer and cautiously he opened his eyes and peered out from between his eyelashes. Luckily for him Daryl was turned away from the bed just the right amount that he couldn't see Rick but that he could still see him.  He looked just as amazing as Rick always thought he looked but more worn down, like something was weighing on his thoughts. Rick studied him for the next few minutes, listening to him whispering affectionately to his daughter and longing to speak to him. Rick couldn't tear his eyes away from the hunter. His arms were cradling Judith so carefully, like she was made of glass, her body looking smaller than usual when held by his large hands. But it was his face that captivated Rick. The way he was looking at his daughter, so tenderly, made Rick's heart ache. His walls were temporarily lowered in surrender and he looked so open, so much softer as he whispered nonsense to the little girl watching him with an air of fascination. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to have Daryl look at him but he couldn't find the courage to form any words. He doesn't know how long he stared but he ended up falling asleep that night listening to the soothing voice of Daryl and quiet contented noises of his daughter. For once he slept peacefully.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wah this chapter took me way longer than usual due to some unforeseen difficulties so I hope you can all forgive me! This chapter is the longest so far and it was actually meant to have nearly another 3000 words so I decided to cut it off and stick the last 3000 words onto chapter 4. Speaking of which, it took me so long to get this chapter up I'm actually more than halfway through writing chapter 4 so you can expect that in the next few days. So don't worry, it won't be a long wait for the next one! I hope you like this new addition and thank you so much for your lovely comments on the last chapter!


	4. Revereri

The next day dawned quickly and Rick found he felt more refreshed than usual and thus made Hershel keep his promise and let him out of bed for the day. The eldest Greene insisted that he didn't do anything too strenuous but said if he took it easy he couldn’t see any reason for him not to be up and about. Rick didn't stick around long enough to let him change his mind and was up and out of his cell before anything could be said. As he walked into the dining area he felt his stomach flutter nervously and his forgotten worries about Daryl came rushing back. The excitement of being out of bed had been enough to push his anxiety under the rug till that very moment and he felt his heart beat a little faster as his table came into view. Sure enough, as faith would have it, he was already at the table. He was picking at his food listening to Carol who was chatting away, knowing well that Daryl would join in the conversation if he wanted to, but when he looked up and suddenly met Rick's eyes he went still, shoulders stiffening almost imperceptibly. Rick felt like he was a teenager again on his first day of high school, not knowing anyone and having nowhere to sit. He was very aware that if he didn't sit down in the next few seconds he would start to draw attention but he was having a crisis in his mind. His usual seat beside the hunter was indeed free but he had a feeling he would not be welcome in it if the way Daryl's eyes dropped back down to his plate were any indication. Not giving himself time to second guess his actions he dropped into the empty spot on the bench beside Carl, a few seats down from the younger man. He focused on his plate and fought the urge to look up even though in his body screamed to.  He found he had lost his appetite but he forced himself to eat anyway so as not to raise further suspicion, a tight unpleasant feeling taking root in his stomach. The quicker he was done the more likely he was to escape without people probing at him, asking questions he didn't yet have the answers to.

“Dad? Carl asked, breaking him out of his stupor.

“Yes Carl?” he replied, fixing his son with a look that he hoped looked relaxed and nonchalant, praying his emotional turmoil wasn't written across his features.

“Are you and Daryl still fighting?” he questioned, a flicker of interest passing over his face.

“Who said we were fightin?” he answered casually, spooning more oatmeal in his mouth despite the fact that it tasted like cardboard. Carl shot him a withering look.

“I'm not stupid Dad; it's so obvious that you two aren't talking”

“Fair enough, I suppose it is” he relented, scooping one last mouthful of the tasteless mush into his mouth before pushing the bowl away, all motivation depleted.

“So?” Carl pushed, never one to let anything go.

Rick heaved out a sigh and ran a hand down his face before turning to look at his son, shoulders feeling heavy from something a lot more painful than his injuries.

“It's complicated, don' go worryin' about it, we'll sort it out ourselves like adults, ok?” he said quietly, aware that there wasn't much people left in the room and not wanting everyone to hear him. Carl looked like he had much more he wanted to say on the matter but for once he decided to let it go and muttered _“Ok”_ in a vaguely disappointed voice like he was expecting to hear all the sordid details of their falling out. By the time Rick decided to risk a glance across the table Daryl was gone. He caught Carol's eyes and she gave him a sympathetic smile before picking up her bowl and pulling herself off the bench. Rick ended up spending the day doing inventory inside, it was easy work and allowed him to avoid the oppressive heat that was lurking outside. He ended up having his lunch while he worked to avoid any more awkwardness. By the time the afternoon was starting to wane he wandered back over to the dining area were mostly everyone was sat down, exhausted from a long day’s work and looking forward to dinner later that evening. Everyone had a thin layer of sweat adorning their skin and looked thoroughly worn out. Just as Rick approached to sit down he was blind-sided by Hershel who came at him from the side, face pinched with worry.

“Rick, we need to talk about Daryl” he said quietly, eyes awash with concern. Rick felt his skin prickle uncomfortably at the mention of the hunter.

“What is it?” he asked, trying not to look the older man in the eyes for fear he'd betray how worried he actually was.

“He's been workin' himself half to death over the last few days, he's doin' all your work, all his own work and he's taken watch the last two nights, I doubt he's been sleeping too much, he's going to collapse if he continues” Hershel explained with obvious disapproval lacing his voice.

“Would no one say anythin' t'him?” Rick replied, placing his hands on his hips.

“We did try Rick, you have met him havent' you?” Hershel answered in an almost amused voice, mouth curled up on one side.

“Fair enough, but still I don' see what ye expect me t'do, he's not goin' to listen to me” Rick muttered, trying not to let any bitterness seep into his tone.

At that he noticed Glenn and Maggie look at each other with their eyebrows raised, clearly dying to say something to that. Before he could ask what they found so amusing Hershel began to speak again.

“Maybe but you can at least try, he respects you Rick, he listens t' you”.

“M'not so sure of that anymore” Rick said quietly under his breath as he turned on his heel and headed out the door in search of the source of his problems, avoiding having to answer any questions about why that statement weighed heavy on his chest.

As Rick stepped out the door he was taken aback by how humid it was outside even with the promise of evening closing in. The sun was starting to set behind the guard tower and it was illuminating the yard in a warm glow.  There was a rosy tint to the sky that made everything seem softer and kinder in some way, right then Rick thought he could use all the kindness he could get. The air felt heavy and there was an unmerciful lack of any form of breeze to make things bearable, the beginnings of sweat already forming on his collarbones. Rick couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as he thought of all the people that had spent their day out there working in that unforgiving weather. As he rounded the corner he caught sight of Daryl and his stomach twisted a bit. He over by one of the guard tower walls, shovel in hand, obviously making good on the groups idea (mainly Rick's idea) to expand their little farm area out further. He steeled himself for what he was about to do and began to take determined strides in the hunters direction. God forbid he'd ever let him realize the extent to which he made him nervous sometimes.

As Rick neared he could see Daryl stiffen for a second, shovel paused mid bend, eyes cast to the ground. He continued on like nothing had happened in the blink of an eye but Rick knew that the hunter had recognized it was him, more than likely recognizing his footsteps from experience. He stopped a few steps away from the younger man, not wanting to push too far into his personal space when he might be feeling volatile. To his annoyance, the hunter shamelessly continued what he was doing like Rick wasn't just standing there. Like he didn't realize that anyone was behind him. The thought that anyone could sneak up on Daryl made Rick want to laugh but he felt this wasn't the appropriate moment for humor. Rick couldn't help but notice how attractive the hunter looked as he shovelled, arms flexing tantalizing revealing lines of taut muscle earned from hard work, his whole body gleaming from the sweat. His skin had gotten tanned from working in the sun all summer and Rick couldn't tear his eyes away from a patch of exposed skin on his back that would momentarily appear as he bent over. He raised his eyes to the sky to focus his thoughts and noticed it was starting to fill with dark clouds, the promise of rain looking like a possibility. Clearing his suddenly dry throat and trying to fight down the heat flaring on the back of his neck he began to speak.

“Y'jus' gonna ignore me now? That's very mature of you”.

Daryl's back bristled at that, shoulders pulling tight together in obvious displeasure. Seeing that he was getting nowhere from this angle Rick started to walk around him slowly so he was standing directly in the younger man’s path of vision. Doing this put his back to the wall which was a feeling that normally made him very uncomfortable during moments of conflict but he figured he was safe enough with Daryl.  Unless he pushed too far, then he might be in trouble. He tapped his fingers against his gun holster, more out of nerves than anything, and tried to think of something to say that wouldn't enrage the other man. He then realized if the hunter was in a bad mood there was nothing he could do to avoid it. So he just threw caution to the wind and jumped straight in.

“You plannin' on takin' a break at some point?” Rick questioned lightly.

“Why? There some deadline I don' know 'bout?” Daryl replied in a rough voice, not bothering to look up.

“No but it looks like it migh' rain” Rick answered, trying to sound conversational rather than confrontational. When Daryl made no indication that he was planning on deigning him with a response he decided to keep talking. He found that he was torn, as he often was lately, between wanting to kiss him and wanting to shake him violently. He couldn't decide which would get him the more negative response.

“Plus, from wha' I hear you've been workin' nonstop for the last few days. S' makin' people worry.”

Daryl stilled at that and finally dragged his eyes away from the ground. He roughly pushed the shovel into the dirt and straightened up, sending Rick a piercing look. He would be lying if he tried to pretend he didn't get a little thrill up his spine at finally having the hunter's gaze upon him at last. He knew the look in the other man's eyes was a warning, letting him know that he should back off. It was meant to be intimidating but Rick found it made a chill run down in his spine for an entirely different reason, enjoying the fact that he could draw some kind of emotional response out of the other man.

“Not askin' anyone ta worry 'bout me, they should min' their own damn business and keep out' iv mine” he retorted, body visibly bristling.

“Doesn't work tha' way Daryl, yer family, they're gonna worry whether you like it r' not”.

“Not my problem”, he snapped back, fist tightening on the handle of shovel. Rick could see him closing off, mask firmly in place as it usually was when someone suggested that he might be part of their family. Afraid to feel, afraid to get hurt. Rick decided to change the topic knowing that continuing down that road would lead to them having a whole different argument than the one he planned on having.

“You need to take a break sometime, yer no use t' us if you pass out” Rick replied, trying to sound as non-confrontational as possible, hoping to soothe the hunter's frazzled nerves. He saw his eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, making them appear more feline. More like an untamed animal. Clearly he had offended him with that statement, Daryl more than likely seeing that as Rick saying he was weak. He quickly continued in the hopes of defusing the bomb he could hear ticking.

“What I mean is, you don' have to feel obligated to do all this extra work, no one’s expectin' ye to do it. S'not your responsibility Daryl.” Rick explained in a calming manner, police training kicking in. If anything the hunter looked even less impressed with every word that came out of Rick's mouth. The air between them had become tense and heavy.

“Ye well, someone had ta step up and do it seein' as y' got yer stupid ass injured as usual” he spat out, knuckles turning white from where he was gripping the shovel too hard.

Rick felt like he had been physically slapped and fought the urge to reel away from the sharp words. He took a shallow breath and swallowed, throat feeling like sandpaper and heart thumping in his chest.

“Don' make this 'bout me” he demanded quietly.

“Why not? I think we should make this 'bout you” Daryl shot back, challenging Rick with those mesmerizing eyes. Those damning eyes, Rick felt like they could see right through him, see all his vulnerabilities. Daryl had the kind of intense stare that made him feel like he was being dissected and pulled apart, all his darkest thoughts laid bare on a platter raw and exposed. Rick wanted to remain level headed in the face of Daryl's volatile nature but underneath the vulnerability he felt the pull of anger, white hot and simmering in his blood.

“Y' got somethin' ya want to say t' me Daryl?” he replied, voice soft but sharp.

“As a matter of fact I do, how 'bout you stop it with yer death wish n' then y'can do yer own work and  no one will have ta cover fer ya” the hunter growled out, body tense and quivering. Rick was hurt by Daryl's callous words but he tried to hide the brief glimmer of pain in his eyes and quickly shot back at the hunter.

“Really? Is tha' yer opinion? Well I suppose I'm glad t' see yer true colors even if it took a while for me to notice. Didn't take you fer the shallow type”, Rick replied with a humorless smile. It was Daryl's turn to look shocked now, although the look flashed across his face so fast that Rick nearly missed it. When he spoke again his voice was nearly shaking with barely restrained rage.

“Wha's _that_ supposed t' mean” he hissed back, eyes snakelike in their rage. Rick sensed a sudden feeling of danger start to form in his chest and he realized it was due to the predatory look that was being cast in his direction by the younger man. He knew he shouldn't fan the fire but his pride was wounded and he couldn't stop the words slipping from his mouth like someone had reached into him and pulled them out forcefully.

“You spent all winter havin' my back and supportin' me no matter what n' then I make one slip up and you lose all respect for me? I guess yer respect ain't worth much if yer gonna withdraw it jus' like that'” Rick stated bitterly. The hunter had gone completely still, staring at Rick stone faced. Something about it felt unnatural and he felt a prickle of anxiety run down his spine like a cold breeze. After a minute he spoke, and Rick was glad he was stood close by or he doubt he would have heard him.

“Wha' did y' jus' say ta me” he whispered, voice quiet but laden with something sinister. Rick knew pressing on with this particular train of thought was like waving a flag in front of a bull but he found he couldn't stop. He was driven by a sick need to draw a reaction out of the other man after days of being ignored by him.

“Y'heard me. I said yer shallow. You act like we migh' actually be friends but the second I fuck up yer done with me, guess you jus' see me as some kind of burden now” Rick responded with a sad smile, casting his eyes downward.

Rick had barely registered the thump of the shovel hitting the ground when he felt his back slam into the wall, teeth rattling in his head as he smacked his skull roughly against the concrete. Before he could consider opening his mouth he felt the unmistakable heat of Daryl about an inch away from his body, shocking him to silence. The hunter was almost vibrating with emotion, fists clenched at his sides, eyes darker than usual. Rick felt like his tongue was being weighed down by an anchor as he took in the hunter’s expression. Their faces were barely an inch or two apart and their chests brushed as they breath in and out in a sickening mockery of intimacy. When Rick inhaled all he could smell was Daryl; that curious combination of leather, oil, smoke and oddly enough, the forest. It was like the smell had absorbed into his being after all the time he had spent exploring it, becoming a part of who he was. The warmth rolling off the other man was almost suffocating and Rick couldn't tear his eyes away from a bead of sweat that was rolling teasingly down the hunter's neck. It took everything in his willpower not to lean over and chase its path with his tongue, to taste the skin.

Feeling himself becoming overwhelmed and unfortunately, aroused, he shifted and tried to get out from in front of the other man. He had barely moved an inch to the left when the hunter's arms shot up and bracketed him on either side, effectively trapping him. Rick's heart began to hammer wildly in his chest at their forced proximity and he nervously risked a glance at the younger man's eyes to see they were full of anger, hurt and if he wasn't mistaken, sadness. The last emotion in particular stole the air from his lungs and dimmed the lust slightly if not completely. He held Daryl's gaze, hoping his probing stare would force him to speak so they could end this prolonged torture. It took a minute but when he finally spoke his voice sounded strained.

“Y'think my actions 'ave anythin' ta do with respect? Jesus Rick, you are fuckin' stupid” he bit out angrily.

Rick went to open his mouth but he was silenced with a sharp look from the hunter who continued to speak.

“Y'could 'ave fuckin' died th' other day n' you act like it's no big deal? Well m'not gonna be the one who speaks ta yer kids when y' don' come back some day. Y'gotta be more careful”

Rick found he couldn't form the words to reply. He was still trying to process what Daryl had just said, mind a hurricane of conflicting emotions. He was so caught up in trying to form a coherent reply that he almost missed it when the hunter started to speak again, voice lower and slightly pained.

“Ah jus' think s' funny tha' you can stand there n' say I don' respect ye when yer th' one who told me ta stay here. M'startin' ta think tha' it's th' other way 'round” he remarked with a bitter smile, bangs hanging in his eyes as he tilted his head downward slightly. Rick felt his heart clench painfully at Daryl's self-depreciating look and his anger deflated like a balloon being popped.

“Daryl -”

“Y' go on 'bout how ah used t' always hav yer back n' all but how can ah do that if ye leave me behind when ye head out? I mean, I don' think even I can stop yer reckless ass from gettin' inta trouble but ah definitely ain' gonna be able t' back ye up if ye don' let me” he finished, fixing Rick with a penetrating look that spent a chill down his spine. Rick found himself starting into the hunter's eyes, trying to burn their image into his mind so he would never forget them. When it became obvious that Daryl wasn't going to speak again he decided it was his turn and he tried to find the words to express how he felt. Everything he wanted to say sounded either too clingy or desperate and he struggled to express himself without making the younger man feel uncomfortable.

“I never stopped respectin' you, I jus', I jus' haven't been myself lately I guess...” he mumbled, trailing off awkwardly. He realized very quickly that there was no way he could explain himself properly without revealing the fact that he had an overwhelming urge to trace the hunter’s bare skin with his fingers and find out what his lips tasted like. And that wasn't an option, not if he wanted to maintain any kind of friendship with the confusing emotionally scarred man standing in front of him.

“Jus' know that y' mean a lot to me Daryl, more than I can put into words, I don' know what I'd do without you sometimes” he said softly, meeting his gaze head on. He felt rather than saw the hunter's body stiffen at that, their close proximity making him very in tune to his movements. He started to chew on his inner lip awkward, clearly unsure of how to respond to the other man's words. The silence stretched on as the two men stared at each other, breath mingling in front of them, nothing but the sounds of the rise and fall of their chests as they inhaled and exhaled to punctuate the silence. Just as Rick went to speak to smooth over the tension there was a rumble overhead signalling thunder and the sky opened up. Within seconds they were both soaked. Rick found himself grateful that the rain had arrived at that particular second, shattering the moment and making it easier for him to breathe again. After a few seconds of staring at each other awkwardly they both made a run for the prison.

The rain was pelting down mercilessly and creating a bone deep chill within them that had them both shivering as they made it inside. Rick felt his teeth chattering and had to bite back a laugh when he saw how shaggy Daryl's hair looked when wet. He tried to school his features into a look that was more serious than amused but he knew he had been caught out when the hunter gave him a calculating look.

“Somethin' funny?” he challenged, voice lacking the anger it had before.

“Y'look like a wet dog” Rick found himself teasing before he could stop himself.

“That's funny considerin' tha' it looks like you 'ave a dead animal growin' on yer face” he snapped back, voice lacking any real bite.

“Shh, yer jus' upset that I was righ'” Rick replied easily. Daryl's head flew around at that, eyes squinting at him suspiciously.

“'Bout wha' exactly?”

“Told you it was goin' to rain” Rick answered calmly, trying to keep the smile off his face. When Daryl snorted at that and muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like “smartass” Rick felt his heart lighten considerably.  He could see a truce being tentatively formed and thought had him struggling to contain his rising sense of hope that things between them might go back to normal. He studied his feet for a moment longer before looking up, locking eyes with Daryl who had just done something similar. His gaze was drawn to a smudge of dirt on the hunter’s jaw, close to his right ear, an obvious sign of a hard day out in the yard. Rick himself usually ended up destroyed in dirt after being up to his elbows in it all day.

Before he knew what he was doing his arm was gravitating towards the hunters face causing him to flinch at the sudden movement. Rick berated himself for startling him and paused momentarily, hand hovering uncertainly in the air a few inches from his face. When Daryl did nothing more than stare at him with guarded eyes Rick continued slowly, bringing his hand up to his face. He gently wiped the dirt away, fingers lingering for a second on his warm, wet skin, savouring it, before pulling his hand back. He found himself mourning the loss of contact and quickly cast his eyes to the hunters face, awaiting his reaction. He was studying Rick with a peculiar look on his face but he didn't say anything.

“Jus bein' helpful” Rick supplied trying to look casual, like touching Daryl's face was something he did all the time.

“S' that so? Ain't you a peach” he replied back, breaking eye contact to search his pockets for something. After a few seconds he pulled out a battered and now, slightly damp, packet of cigarettes. He gave them a rather vehement stare when he saw how dishevelled they had become. Rick tried not to roll his eyes at his disheartened look. He failed.

“Thought you said menthols were fer pussies” Rick quipped with amusement in his eyes.

“Aren't ye jus' hilarious t'day Officer?” Daryl shot back hotly.

“They were yer own words.”

Before Daryl could reply Rick heard the sounds of snickering and he whipped around to see Glenn and Maggie standing there with Sasha and Michonne in tow.

“Somethin' amusin'?” Rick asked mildly raising his eyebrow as his eyes roved over the collective smirks of the group in front of them.

“You two jus' make us laugh with the way y' carry on” Maggie teased, eyes bright with amusement.

“Glad we could be of service” Daryl muttered back dryly.

“Don't get us wrong, we don't mean it in a bad way, it’s just that you argue like an old married couple” Glenn added, clearly trying not to laugh out loud. Rick felt his heart jump a little at that insinuation and hoped Daryl wouldn't be insulted by what they were implying. He had just finally snapped out of his mood and that the last thing Rick needed was other people winding him up. To his surprise the hunter let out a derisive snort of laughter before speaking.

“Y'know wha'? I suppose we r' like n' old married couple. 'Cause all he does is nag me constantly and ah don' even get any action” he replied dryly causing Glenn to suddenly choke on the drink he had just taken a mouthful of. Rick felt his temperature rise at that statement and he felt the back of his neck turning red at hearing the hunter say something so bold, especially in front of the group. The girls were now howling with laughter though as Glenn coughed a lung up so Rick supposed that no one had taken the remark in bad taste.

“That's me, the ol' ball and chain” Rick replied with an easy smile, looking right at Daryl, eyes glinting mischievously.  The hunters eyes met his briefly before flicking back to survey their audience.

As the collective laughter began to die out the group shuffled back the way they came chatting animatedly, mood at an all-time high for once. Being in the prison had done wonders for the group’s morale. It was nice to have somewhere they could call home. Rick didn't realize he had completely zoned out till Daryl whistled, tilting his head towards the cell block in a silent invitation for Rick to walk with him. As he caught up and fell into line beside the hunter he couldn't resist the urge to get in another jibe.

“So, while we're on the topic of me naggin' you, y' really could do with eatin' some more” Rick joked lightheartedly, moving a fraction closer to Daryl and nudging him gently with his elbow. Daryl didn't look at him but Rick could see a faint smirk on his face as he pressed his shoulder to Rick's companionably, their anger at each other long forgotten. They spent the rest of the walk back in amicable silence.

Rick hadn't actually realized just how wet and stiff he was till he reached his cell and looked down at the drips his clothes were leaving on the floor. The coldness from outside had caused his injured back to ache a bit and he groaned audibly as he rolled his shoulders. He knew that he was going to pay the price in the morning if the stiffness was anything to go by. As he turned to place his gun holster on the table he realized that Daryl was standing in his doorway, still wearing his drenched clothes. He was leaning on the frame, chewing his thumb quietly and drilling holes into the floor with the intensity of his gaze. Rick cleared his throat awkwardly; not knowing what to say but the sound seemed to get Daryl's head to snap up anyway.

“Somethin' ye want?” Rick asked tentatively, not knowing what was bothering the stoic younger man. Daryl looked like he was about to walk away for a minute before steeling himself and stepping further into the room.

“Yer injuries from th' other day... They any better?” he asked gruffly, finally pulling his thumbnail away from his mouth.

“They're not too bad, m'back was the worst part but it's gettin' better.” Rick answered, trying not to let on how sore it was at that particular moment. There was silence for a minute as Daryl contemplated his next sentence, all the while looking deeply uncomfortable about something. Rick felt something jolt inside him when Daryl's eyes suddenly got more intense.

“Can I see 'em?” the hunter questioned, clearly trying to sound more confident than he actually was if the barely masked nervousness in his eyes was anything to go by. Rick was used to doing that himself lately. He couldn't contain the look of surprise that hit him when he heard those words escape the other man's lips, not expecting such a request to ever come from him. He quickly realized that this was Daryl's way of showing he cared, kind of like a twisted apology. Usually if one of them got hurt the other would examine the injuries for themselves, it was the only way they could be satisfied that they weren't serious. Daryl hadn't even come to check on Rick the whole time he was injured and this was his way of showing he did actually care, even if had taken awhile for him to admit it. Rick nodded dumbly, words escaping him, and made to remove his soaking t-shirt.

He grabbed the hem, arms almost shaking with sudden nerves and made to lift it. He barely had it halfway up when pain lanced through his upper arms causing his shoulders to throb painfully. He released it quickly and winced in pain, cursing himself for wearing a t-shirt today of all days when he normally never would. Daryl was across the room in seconds, hovering awkwardly a few inches away from Rick. He felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment and he fought the urge to hang his head in shame.

“Y'need a hand wit' tha'?” the hunter asked seeming to sense his inner turmoil.

“I guess, if you don' mind” Rick replied quietly, heart starting to accelerate in his chest. He silently cursed himself for agreeing when he actually thought about what a bad idea it was to agree to let the object of his affections to undress him.

As the hunter stepped closer and grabbed the hem of the troublesome material he felt heat start to blossom in his chest and his head felt a bit dizzy. He almost jumped when he felt the cold hands graze his bare sides, heart thumping wildly at that stage. The t-shirt was stuck to Rick like a second skin and Daryl had to practically peel it off him. The moment felt agonizingly drawn out, the hunter removing it extra slow so as not to aggravate his sore back any further. The moment it finally cleared his head Rick felt like he could breathe again for a split second but the tension quickly returned when the hunter tossed the soaked material to the side and stepped even closer. His eyes were guarded but his body language gave him away, body tense and uncertain as he made to lift his hand towards Rick's face. When his thumb gently grazed Rick's bottom lip he was convinced that there was no way Daryl couldn't see his chest rattling from the force of his heart hammering against his chest. He was surprised that he couldn't hear it at that stage. His mind went incoherent for a minute and his breathing ceased as he tried to process what was happening. When he finally saw the hunter's eyes focus on something his brain finally helped supply him with the memory of him nearly splitting his lip open on the run.

The cut had pulsed painfully nearly all of the previous day and Rick had no doubt that it was probably very unpleasant to look at, having not had the heart to examine it himself at that point. He stood ramrod stiff the whole time the hunter examined his lip, their faces too close for him to focus on any particular rational thought. The hunter's hair was still plastered to his neck from the rain and his skin was glistening much too temptingly for Rick's fragile mind to deal with. The lack of proximity wasn't helping much either. . Luckily, before his risky thoughts could force him into doing anything he might regret, Daryl stepped back, removing his hand and allowing Rick to breathe again.

“Turn 'round” he ordered in that rough voice that did sinister thing's to Rick's body.

He barely managed to suppress a shudder at how low the hunter's voice was as he complied, turning to face away from him. Nothing happened for a minute and Rick felt how heavy the air around them had become as he fought the urge to fidget awkwardly. When he felt Daryl's hands on his back he nearly gasped, heat surging through him despite the chill of the hands on his body. He felt the other man stiffen in some emotion that he couldn't pinpoint without seeing his face as he saw the full extent of Rick's severely bruised back. As gentle hands explored him he tried his best to keep his mind in focus. Everywhere the hunter's fingers trailed felt like it was on fire and Rick could feel his hot breath warming the nape of his neck. Just as he felt the heat pooling low in his stomach and he thought he couldn't take it any more he felt Daryl's hands pause, tension radiating off him.

“Y'need t' be more careful next time” Daryl muttered gruffly, fingers tightening and digging into Rick's skin ever so slightly as if to warn him.

“Well, I don' go out with the intention of getting' hurt Daryl, it was an accident” Rick pointed out in a soft voice, trying to show the hunter that he had no interest in picking a fight with him despite his slightly brazen words.

“Shouldn' be so reckless then” he replied but his voice showed no real annoyance, just worry.

Rick decided to keep his mouth shut and hold his tongue, not willing to risk spoiling the mood between them after finally getting things back to normal. After a minute of silence Daryl spoke again, and this time his voice sounded strained.

“Ah ain't ever met 'nyone who values their own life so little”.

Rick stayed silent for a minute before answering.

“What 'bout you?”

He felt the hunter stiffen behind him minutely but he didn't bother replying so Rick continued on.

“You place very little value on yer life, y'don't think yer important either, but you are important, to this group.. and to me” he added, voice getting quieter as he reached the end of the sentence.

They didn't really speak after that. Daryl retreated back out of the emotional territory they were encroaching on and told him to get out of the rest of his wet clothes before he got hypothermia before leaving him alone in his cell. Rick felt like he took all the air in the room with him. He lay on his bed for a good hour after getting changed, eyes fixed on the top of his bunk as he tried to will away the feeling of Daryl's hands on him.

When he finally stumbled down for dinner his head was clearer and he couldn't help but feel lighter when he remembered that their meal that night wouldn't be an awkward affair like breakfast had been. Daryl was already seated when Rick walked in, devouring his meal in his usual ungracious manner minus cutlery, and as he approached him with his plate in hand he felt a warm feeling bloom in his chest when the hunter gave him a faint half smile. As he slotted himself in his usual spot beside the younger man, pressed close together as always, he caught Hershel's eye and eldest Greene gave him a nod of approval that Rick returned. The food that night was actually half decent for once, Daryl having caught a few rabbits in his snares, and Rick found he was actually hungry for once. Carol and some of the other women had cooked up the meal with some vegetables from their garden and everyone was eagerly digging in that night. Carl was talking animatedly, telling a story about something that had happened that day and getting some laughter from group. Rick was conversing with Tyreese and Carol who were telling him that they might have an idea on how to get hot water running for the showers, Daryl's body a warm solid weight beside him as he listened.

Rick was in a good mood for once and just as he turned his head to look at Daryl he noticed his arm snake out and grab the last bit of meat off his plate. Rick was shocked at his boldness and couldn't help but cock his eyebrow at the hunter.

“What? Yer th' one who was naggin' me earlier 'bout not eatin' 'nough” Daryl drawled defiantly, meeting Rick's eyes with a smirk. He let out a snort at that and smiled back at the younger man, enjoying the fact that he was in a good mood and knowing that Daryl would'nt have taken his food if he didn’t sense he was actually done with it. They were incredibly in tune with each other’s actions.

“Jus' bein' a good husband” he teased back.

“Think y'mean wife” the hunter scoffs, finishing off his food and cleaning his fingers in an appallingly sexually manner as usual. Rick does his best to ignore it in favour of keeping the mood relaxed, dragging his eyes away.

“Whatever helps you sleep at nigh” he replied, shaking his head and looking downwards to hide the smile on his face.

When he looks up he notices his son staring longingly at Beth, who's chatting away to her father, with her bright smile in place as usual. And for a minute his heart aches because he knows that feeling intimately. That all-consuming want and desire. That he can relate to all too well, he felt that way every day. He understood what it felt like to have that one person you want more than _anyone_ else in the world. To be inexplicably drawn towards them like a moth to a flame, wanting to always be in their atmosphere. And the crushing weight of despair in your chest when you realize you might never be with them. _Because Rick wasn't stupid._ He realized that they were was a next to none chance that the hunter might ever reciprocate his longing and that realization was starting to hurt more than when he discovered that his best friend had slept with his wife. What had started out as a harmless crush was slowly consuming him body and soul. Every _touch_ , every _look_ from Daryl was burning him away and he feared that sooner or later the heat would turn him to ash. He felt like Icarus flying too close to the sun.

And watching his son, seeing the look of hope and want on his face, he began to wonder if that was what he looked like when he gazed at the hunter.

Rick dropped his eyes back down to his knees after a minute, mind heavy with equal measures of pity for both himself and his son. When Daryl suddenly leaned in he wasn't expecting it and the tickle of hot breath in his ear made him flinch.

“Yer boy's got it bad Officer” he whispered in a low gravelly voice that made Rick's stomach clench tightly, obviously after following Rick's line of sight. Their close proximity was over before Rick even had time to process it and he wanted nothing more in that moment than to purposely invade the hunter's personal space. He glanced across the table and noticed Glenn and Maggie were giving him vaguely curious looks, clearly having witnessed his and Daryl's little exchange.

When Rick finally spoke it was with an impressive amount of restrain.

“Yeah, he's pretty smitten alrigh” he agreed with forced calmness, trying to dim the storm of emotion swirling around inside him at that second.

“Hopefully it turns out ok fer the kid, las' thing we need 'round here is 'ny more teen drama” Daryl replies with a careless shrug, spinning a chicken bone between his dexterous fingers gracefully, eyes surveying Rick's son.

“He'll be fine; he's my son and y’know how stubborn I am” Rick jokes with a weak smile, trying to inject some humor into the proceedings. Daryl audibly huffs out laughter at that before casting his eyes to the side to survey him.

“Yer one stubborn sonofabitch alrigh', I'd say you Grimes men are well used ta gettin' whatever or whoever ye want” he scoffed with a trace of amusement on his face.

“If you only you knew the half of it” Rick responded bitterly without thinking.

He had said it before he could even force himself to stop and he noticed Daryl look at him searchingly for a minute, eyes flicking around his face as if the answer was written on it. Before the hunter could say anything Rick was on his feet with a fake smile plastered on his face.

“Well, I’m on watch tonigh' so I'm off ta get some sleep while I can” he stated, sending a brief nod in Carl's direction before clapping Daryl on the shoulder and squeezing gently. He could see the hunter was still thinking about what he had said a minute ago but he nodded back none the less.

As Rick headed back to his cell he couldn't help but wonder what possessed him to keep torturing himself over Daryl. What was the draw? He couldn't understand his overwhelming need to possess and be possessed by the other man, body and soul. He eventually came to the realization that it was much like the Surgeon General’s Warning on the packets of cigarettes that Daryl was so fond of, the ones that warn you that smoking is addictive and dangerous. He knows it's bad for him, he knows it may kill him, but he does it anyway, because it hurts not to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I hope this update was fast enough for you all unlike the last one. I already have chapter 5 planned out in detail so I hope to start writing it as soon as possible! I really hope that some of you enjoy this chapter, it was a major pain in the ass to write let me tell you. Thank you for all the lovely comments on the last chapter and I will get around to replying to them soon <3  
> 


	5. Proxumitas

To say Daryl looked less than okay at that moment in time would really be underselling it. From where Rick stood in the doorway to his cell all he could see was the hunters glaring face from where he had slumped partially under the blanket. He was projecting disdain in surround sound. The eldest Greene was standing by his bed with a disapproving look on his face and Carol was hanging back behind him trying valiantly not to look amused.

She was failing spectacularly.

The tension radiating off Daryl in waves was almost palpable and Rick could sense an explosion coming if they didn't back off soon. He could hear the tell-tale ticking of the impending anger like a time bomb, gears almost audibly grinding in Daryl's head in perfect sync with the teeth currently grinding in his mouth.

“I'm jus’ sayin’ that you need to take it easier son, then these kind of things won't keep happenin’ and you won't need us to fuss over you” Hershel explained calmly, the kind of voice one would use when trying to soothe a wild animal. Rick couldn't deny the comparison. He really did have the patience of saint, which was a very good thing to possess when you had a patient like Daryl who looked very much displeased at what he was hearing.

“Don' need no one ta fuss ov'r me anyway, m'fine” he grumbled back in an irritated tone, voice possessing just a bit more gravel than usual due to exhaustion.

“You have a fever Daryl, that you got I migh’ add, by overworkin’ yourself. Your body is exhausted from too many hours of hard labour and not enough sleep.” the older man responded, running his eyes over the hunter's features. Daryl didn't respond except to turn his head towards the wall in an attempt to brush off further attempts at conversation. Hershel wasn't put off in the slightest.

 “Have you been eatin’ properly?” he questioned. The hunter didn't answer verbally but the loaded silence and tension in his shoulders said it all.

“I didn't think so, you’re gonna have to eat more for the next days to get your strength back” the eldest Greene admonished.

“Whate'er ye say now can y' leave me be” Daryl mumbled back, picking at the blankets in an irritated fashion with his eyes downcast. Hershel looked like he might have more to say but a quick glance at Carol who was shaking her head caused him to sigh and turn back to face the hunter with a worn out look on his face.

“I will for now, if, you promise to take the pills I left for you” he stated in a firm voice. Daryl had a habit of refusing medicine unless he was literally close to death. Rick had a strong feeling that was because he was used to enduring pain and that thought left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. When the hunter didn't respond except to shrug they took that as their sign to leave; suddenly looking very weary and slightly disappointed. As they passed Rick in the doorway Hershel placed a hand on Rick's arm and leaned close.

 “Please try to convince him to take them, he migh’ listen to you” said the older man with a knowing look in his eye before squeezing Rick's arm and giving him a slap on the shoulder. Carol smiled at him pleasantly and also brushed her hand gently over Rick's arm in a gesture of encouragement. Daryl had turned to face the wall the minute he was alone, blanket pulled tight up to his neck. Rick kicked forward and stepped into the cell, noting the fact that Daryl's shoulders tensed momentarily before relaxing, obviously realizing that it wasn't Hershel coming back to pester him. Rick waited till he was seated on the edge of the bed before letting out a low chuckle.

“Somethin' funny Grimes?” Daryl bit out without turning around.

“Jus' was thinkin' that it's funny that after all the time you've spent lecturin' me 'bout not overworkin' myself an' makin' myself sick you go an' do it yerself” Rick teased lightly.

“S' funny 'cause I remember a time a few months ago when you got sick an' I had ta take care of yer sorry ass” he responded hotly, pulling the blanket tighter around him. Rick remembered that night well.

_How could he forget?_

It had been during the height of their bitter winter on the road. Rick had been out scavenging for food when a walker had lunged out from behind a display in the convenience store they had been raiding and knocked him clean off his feet. The walker was dispatched of swiftly courtesy of an arrow from Daryl but when Rick hit the frozen food counter in front of him he managed to get a large shard of broken glass impaled in his abdomen. All he can remember is the blood, _all of the blood_. He touched the wound dumbly, completely in shock. Pain blossomed within him like a poisonous flower filling his veins with something acrid and unpleasant. He watched the crimson liquid seep through his shirt and coat his hands with a morbid detachment as if he wasn't part of the macabre scene unfurling around him. He remembers turning around slowly with his bloody hands held in-front of him, and seeing Daryl's face. It was the first and only time he ever saw him look scared. His face was the colour of gone off milk and his mouth opened wordlessly for a minute, paralyzing fear flashing across his face, before he snapped into action and started barking orders to Maggie and Glenn.

He doesn't remember much of what happened next due to the blood loss and shock but he does remember feeling rough hands on him that were surprisingly gentle and hearing a panicked voice telling him he was going to be okay as he flashed in and out of consciousness. When he finally opened his eyes he heard people erupt into cries of joy, relief evident in their voices as Carl hugged him tight where he lay. The pressure on his wound hurt but he didn't have the heart to complain, he was just happy to see his son again. He barely noticed Lori reach out to him on impulse before curling her arm back towards her like nothing had happened; he was too busy trying to decipher the overwhelming look of _relief_ on Daryl's face. It was just a bare flicker, only lasting a few seconds before it slipped away under his mask and he looked as in control as ever. When their eyes met Rick found himself becoming oddly captivated, the way a child does when they catch a butterfly in a jar. He heard people talking away around him but for a minute it was all muffled and he felt momentarily paralyzed, pinned under the weight of the hunters gaze as if something was physically weighing him down. It was longest the other man had ever maintained eye contact with him and the intimacy of it caused his chest to tighten. He doesn't know how long he spent staring into the other man's intense eyes but he does know that he felt suddenly very empty and hollow when he lost them, the hunter wrenching his gaze away and breaking the connection.

The daylight was starting to wane, the marmalade light of the impending sunset casting a reddish tint on their surroundings that Rick had rather morbidly come to associate with blood since the turn. With only barely an hour left till the sun descended behind the tree line, sucking all semblance of false security away, the group didn't want to end up sleeping in the middle of the road so they set off to find somewhere to rest for the night. Rick knew it was his fault that they had ended up sitting out in the open with twilight fast approaching and he berated himself for putting his family at risk. He also knew that Hershel had probably wasted a lot of their dwindling medical supplies on him and that only weighed heavier on his mind, turning his stomach into an uncomfortable churning mess. He was laid out in the back seat of one of the vehicles with his head begrudgingly laid in Lori's lap, it was the only way they could fit everyone in the car and keep Rick comfortable at the same time. He remembered a time when he used to love being laid out like this with his wife after a hard day’s work. Now it just felt like a mocking facsimile of the idyllic 'white picket fence ' life he used to have. He slipped in and out of consciousness on the drive there, chasing sleep but never quite catching up to it, being granting a few moments reprieve from his tumultuous thoughts.

 Rick was grateful when they finally found somewhere that was deemed secure enough to make camp for the night as his head was starting to feel like it was underwater. His limbs felt stiff and heavy and he had a bone deep chill gnawing away at him despite the sweat starting to form on his clavicle and across his collarbones. He nearly stumbled getting out of the car, swaying precariously on his feet for a minute. He had to bat away Lori's hand when she reached out to offer him assistance. She would no sooner have been able to hold the weight of one of their rucksacks let alone Rick, pregnancy and malnutrition making her look like a hard gust of air could knock her over. The house they had chosen to stay in was barely passable in terms of safety and cleanliness but it was the best they had found that evening so it had to do. The wallpaper was peeling and the floors were filthy, covered in debris and broken glass after obviously having been raiding previously by other survivors. Once they were settled in Rick remembered how it had only taken one glance from Hershel for the older man to realize that Rick was getting feverish. He let the veterinarian examine him in order to keep him quiet but ultimately he declared there was very little they could do. Their medicine stock was pitiful at that time and didn't contain anything that could reduce a fever. Hershel explained that it was a common enough side effect from getting a traumatic wound and there was nothing they could do except wait it out and keep him warm.

That was one of the longest nights of his life. He remembered sitting in the desolate sitting room, knees pulled up to his chest as his teeth chattered in his head. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat and he had a thin scratchy blanket wrapped around him, the only thing they had been able to find that might provide warmth. He was freezing and his head felt fuzzy like he had been spinning around in circles all evening. He had been sitting on his own out of sight, not being able to bare the weighted stares and comments muffled into the palms of hands that were being cast his direction. He doesn't know how long he sat there until Daryl finally approached him. At that point Rick was so in his own world that he didn't even notice the hunter was there until he dropped into a crouch in front of him, shaking him out of his daze in a way that made him almost reel back. Daryl's hand shot out to grab the crook of his elbow, steadying him. He didn't say anything for a minute, just studied Rick's face with an unreadable look in his eyes, analysing his features for any sign of real discomfort. After a minute he reached out and placed a hand on the older man's forehead in a surprising delicate manner, his cool fingers causing Rick to shiver even more.

“Shit man, yer fuckin' burnin' up” he remarked, pulling his hand away and resting it gently on Rick's knee.

“I wish, I'm fuckin' freezing” Rick replied with a shaky laugh, teeth chattering audibly as he pulled the blanket tighter around himself. For a minute the hunter just surveyed him openly and Rick could see the cogs turning in his head as he pulled together some conclusion in his mind. Seeming to come to a resolution he reached down and grabbed the hem of his poncho before pulling it off in one fluid movement. Before Rick could protest he was yanking it down over his head gracelessly and it was done. The heat it added was only minimal but Rick couldn't deny that being suddenly smothered in Daryl's scent was oddly comforting. Just as he looked up to thank him he was on his feet once again assessing Rick with a thoughtful yet unsure expression on his face. His next move was what rendered Rick speechless.

Before Rick could process what was happening the hunter had stepped behind him and suddenly dropped to the ground, a mimicry of Rick's position, legs on either side of his bent knees. He made to open his mouth but the words disappeared on his tongue when he felt firm arms wrap around him and then his back made contact with a solid chest. When he felt the hunter's head rest on his shoulder Rick felt a warm feeling spread through him that nothing to do with body temperature. He opened his mouth once or twice but each time nothing came out so he just sat there and went with it. After a minute he felt warm breath on the side of his neck, caressing his earlobe slightly and his throat hitched.

 “Y' warmer now?” Daryl muttered gruffly, the tiniest hint of something that sounded vaguely like embarrassment and uncertainty laced with stubborn pride seeping into his voice. Rick nodded and tried to get his vocal chords functioning again, still taken aback at the hunter's sudden proximity after showcasing such a strong aversion to physical contact.

“Yeah that's much better, thank you” he muttered, embarrassed at how his voice caught near the end of the sentence.

“S'nothin” he heard the hunter reply quietly, the rumble in his chest as he spoke resonating down Rick's spine pleasantly. Rick spent the good part of an hour like that sitting ramrod stiff with his thoughts swimming around in his skull in a suffocating manner until the hunter finally sighed against his shoulder and spoke.

“Y'need ta stop thinkin' so loud an' jus' relax fer a minute” he grumbled, leaning back an extra inch so he was propped against the wall. The movement dragged Rick back so he was lying on the hunter's chest more, Daryl's head moving back to the crook of his shoulder. The arms around him were strong and secure and Rick had forgotten how much he missed physical contact until that moment. After a few minutes he let his body go lax in the other man's grip, finally letting his limbs loosen and relax. He fell asleep soon after that, the heartbeat of the other man drumming into his shoulder blade soothingly, and for the first time in a long time he felt safe and content. By the next morning his fever had broken and he felt more refreshed than a man who had just been impaled the previous day should feel but he suspected there was a particular reason behind that. A reason that had trouble meeting his eye the next day and kept a suspicious distance between them.

 He was drawn out of his trip down memory lane by the sound of Daryl's own teeth chattering very loudly in tandem with the shivers that were wracking his body. Rick found himself reaching out towards the hunter, an automatic reflex to sensing his distress, but he found his hand stopped just short of his body, hovering uncertainly before dropping back down to his side. After a minute or two of working up the courage to take the leap he decided to be brave and just say what he was thinking, trying to ignore the flutter in his stomach.

“I could help warm ye up if you want, like you did fer me” Rick suggested in what he hoped was a casual tone that didn't betray the nerves twisting his stomach into knots. At that Daryl turned around so he could survey Rick with piercing eyes that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

 “No way in hell are we lyin' here cuddlin' Grimes” Daryl said dryly with a carefully neutral expression on his face.

“Who said anythin' bout cuddlin'? Look, I know yer ol' fashioned and you expect a guy ta at least buy you dinner before you let him jump inta bed with you but I jus' wanna return the favor and help you warm the bed up, we don' even have ta touch” Rick explained with a teasing lilt to his voice and an easy smile on his face. He knew if anyone else had asked Daryl a question like his previous one they would have been subject to some colourful language so he was pleased the hunter's answer had been so calm. He waited with bated breath, keeping his face relaxed and carefully blank of any emotion while the hunter chewed on his inner lip and weighed the merits of Rick's idea versus spending the night alone in his cold bed. Summer was starting to fade out slowly and autumn was slowly approaching, the chill becoming more pronounced at night.

 After a minute the hunter cast his eyes downwards and nodded stiffly, scooting back towards the wall more to accommodate Rick in his bed. With his heart somewhere in the vicinity of his throat, Rick slowly stood up, grabbing the pills off the desk and kicking off his boots as he moved and peeled the blanket back cautiously, giving Daryl plenty of time to change his mind. When the hunter continued to keep his eyes trained on his apparently now fascinating blanket, Rick decided to take the plunge and quickly slide in beside him before he lost his nerve. Once he had settled in he felt at a loss at what to do, his heart hammering in his chest, surprised at his own bold move. He was still struggling to believe he had the nerve to ask Daryl could he get into bed with him. After a minute of inner hyperventilation he cautiously turned onto his side, tucking his hand under the pillow and resting his head on it for extra support. The hunter was still lying on his back, eyes now flitting around awkwardly like he didn't know where to look. Rick cleared his throat and decided to start with an easy subject for the time being.

“Will you take yer pills now?” he coaxed quietly, more aware of his volume when his mouth was only a few inches away from the other man's ear. Hell, he was only a few inches away from the other man's everything at that point, the bed feeling like the size of a matchbox. Sensing the other man was about to complain Rick jumped back in quickly to interrupt him.

“An' keep in mind that yer now stuck here with me an' I will keep askin' all evenin' till you say yes” Rick added firmly. Daryl rolled around suddenly so he was on his side facing him, eyes level and knees touching under the blanket. Rick was forced to confront the fact that the sudden proximity might be a factor as to why he felt light headed at that moment. The hunter narrowed his eyes at Rick in what he presumed was meant to be a threatening gesture, trying to force him to submit. Unfortunately for Daryl, that wasn't the way in which Rick was interested in submitting to him. The rather pathetic shaky jitters of his body didn't really help with the intimidation either.

After a minute or two of glaring at him the younger man heaved a world weary sigh and held his hand out in a halfhearted manner. Rick tried not to smile in victory as he passed them over, fingers feeling pleasantly warm and tingly as they brushed over the other mans. Once Daryl had downed his medicine the awkwardness returned with a vengeance, made even more inopportune by the fact that they were now lying face to face with only a few inches separating them. After a minute or two of wracking his brain he decided to just blurt out the first thing that came into his mind.

 “Does it scare you? When you get sick like this? 'Cause it terrifies me. We spend all this time worryin' that we're goin' to get torn ta pieces by the walkers, it's scarier to think that nowadays we could get taken out by the common cold” Rick remarked with a bitter laugh. Daryl stayed silent throughout Rick's outburst, although he was now giving the other man his full attention. After a minute of contemplation he finally answered in a gruff voice.

 “Reckon m'not scared of much, not 'nymore” Rick studied the other man's face openly, trying to catch a glimpse of the enigma that was Daryl, waiting for the moment the other man's mask became temporarily translucent and he could gaze into his true face, understand him. But the other man wasn't giving anything away.

 “That so? Well then yer a braver man than I am.” Rick responded, unable to pull his eyes away from the hunters. When he realized how indulgent he was being he quickly tore his gaze away from the other mans. The motion felt like trying to cut through rope with a butter knife, his body unwilling to break the connection despite what his mind was telling him. He jumped quickly back into the conversation, praying the hunter hadn't noticed anything strange.

“What 'bout when you were a kid?” he questioned, genuinely interested in finding out more about the other man's life. The glimmer of momentary confusion in the hunter’s eyes said that he had very much noticed Rick's weird behaviour but he thankfully kept his thoughts to himself. He was grateful in that sense that the younger man was such an introvert, it meant less invasive or embarrassing questions. When Daryl didn't respond to his question straight away Rick decided to continue on and give the hunter the option of ignoring his question if he didn't want to answer.

“I was afraid of everythin' when I was a kid, I was a real wimp” he chuckled fondly, head flooded with memories of his childhood. “The main thin' though was the dark. I was terrified of the dark, slept with a nightlight till I was 10” he added with a self-deprecating laugh. He sees a faint trace of amusement illuminate the hunter’s eyes for a minute before the light went out again as quickly as it had appeared.

“I was 'fraid of dyin' the hunter replied quietly after a minute of silence, a bitter twisted half smile shaping his mouth. “Had ta learn ta grow outta that fear pretty fast growin' up where ah did”.

Rick felt goose bumps break out over his skin at the chill Daryl's words sent down his spine, the raw honesty of the statement overwhelming him. His tongue felt as dry as sandpaper for a minute and the urge to reach out for the other man across the few sparse inches that separated them was painful. But it was no use; those few inches might as well have been the distance from the sun to the earth where Daryl was concerned. It was a ravine too wide to cross and Rick feared the fall might kill him so he held his arms stiffly in place and fought his instincts. He didn't even realize he spoke again until he was half way through the sentence.

“Can't imagine you as a kid, your jus' so resourceful and independent, can't imagine you ever needin' anyone ta take care of you” Rick muttered softly, as if their rare moment of intimacy might be shattered by raised voices.

“Never had no one ta take care o' me, ma died when I was young n' my ol' man was a shit fer brains drunk. Jus' had Merle ta watch out fer me, n' even he did a shit job half th' time” Daryl responded with a touch of resentment in his voice although his features were carefully blank.

“More n' half th' time” he added quietly under his breath, like he was speaking to himself rather than Rick. Rick found himself sickly fascinated by the thought of learning more about the hunters childhood despite the disgust that coursed through his veins in an almost equal measure.

“Wha' were you like as a kid? Tell me somethin' 'bout yourself” Rick found himself asking, well aware of how greedy he had become when it came to the other man. For a minute Rick was convinced that he had pushed too far and was about to be told to fuck off so he was pleasantly surprised when the other man actually answered.

“I liked ta read” Daryl admitted so quietly that Rick probably wouldn't have heard him if he wasn't lying so close to the other man that he could basically almost feel his breath. Rick must have looked a bit taken aback because Daryl ploughed on before he could form a coherent opinion.

“Wha? You think tha’ all rednecks ar’ illiterate fucks?” he asked hotly. His face was slightly red but Rick didn't know if was just the fever or a product of embarrassment.

“The thought never even crossed my mind” Rick said with as straight of a face as he could muster. Seeming pleased enough that the other man wasn't about to laugh at him he decided to continue.

“Didn' have much money growin' up so I couldn't actually buy 'ny books, not that my ol' man would ‘ave bought them 'nyway, said readin' was fer pussies. But I had a teacher, 'bout th' only decent one I ever had, n' she knew I liked ta read. She used ta give me books ta bring home n’ read all th' time. I had ta hide 'em under a loose floorboard in my bedroom 'cause my ol' man wouldn' been too happy if he found 'em” Daryl said, eyes clouded over as if he was lost in a memory.

Rick found himself getting a stabbing pain in his heart as he listened to the hunter's story, his heart aching for the little boy he'd never met.

“Do you still like it?” he found himself asking. The hunter shifted uncomfortably for a minute before answering.

 “Naw, kinda went off it after my ol' man caught me at it an' pitched a fit, said he didn' raise no faggot” he responded in a voice laced with bitterness. Rick was once again overwhelmed with the urge to reach out and comfort Daryl but instead he decided to just move his knees even closer to the other man's, nudging them in a comforting gesture. When the hunter didn't move back he knew he wasn't really too upset so he decided to try for casual to lighten the mood.

“M'gonna guess you don't have many happy stories huh?” he teased with a semi-serious expression.

 “Wha' d'ya think Grimes?” Daryl replied in a sardonic voice, cocking his eyebrow slightly.

“Rick” he found himself correcting suddenly, the word escaping him before he could stop himself. He couldn't quite explain why he didn't like hearing Daryl refer to him as if he was a stranger. The hunter studied him with barely masked surprise, eyes widening almost imperceptibly before speaking again.

“Rick” he amended in that quiet gravelly tone of his. Said man couldn't help but shiver at that sound of that voice speaking his name like a promise. The loaded silence that followed seemed to stretch on infinitely until even Daryl, socially inept as he was, started to realize that the situation was getting a tad awkward. He cleared his throat gruffly before speaking again, voice rough from sickness.

“Y' always wanna be a cop?” he asked, eyes starting to look lazy and cat eyed.

“Yeah, always, never wanted ta be anythin' else.'Cept for one year when I wanted to be n' astronaut, didn' work out” he responded, smiling when the hunter let out a snort. The tension was slowly starting to bleed out of air, the silence becoming more amicable as they lay there peacefully. After a minute Rick spoke again.

“What 'bout you? Wha' did you wanna be?” he questioned, turning his head to observe the hunter who had rolled over onto his back to survey the canopy of the bunk above them. Daryl didn't reply for a minute and when he did his voice was soft and eyes were glazed as if he was far away in another time.

“Honestly, when I was a kid th' only thin’ I wanted ta be was grown up. Not fer ‘ny job or 'nythin like tha', I jus wanted ta be n' adult so I could be strong n' take care of myself. T' get away from all th' shit in m'life. But by th' time tha' happened th' damage was done 'nyway” he answered absentmindedly.

Rick was torn between sadness at the hunter's words and shock that he was being this open but as he took in the younger man's hazy eyes and slightly slurred voice he realized these sudden confessions were the result of powerful medication rather than an overwhelming urge to share. Rick started to worry his bottom lip with his teeth, torn between wanting to hear more about the other man and debating the possibility of him ripping out his spine tomorrow when he had more sense. Before he could come to any conclusions of his own the younger man rolled over to face him, causing his brain to suddenly short circuit, warmth blooming in his chest at the incredibly attractive face in his line of sight. His skin felt like it was burning and he wanted nothing more in that moment than to touch the other man, to feel the heat of his skin beneath his fingertips. He found his eyes were transfixed on the hunter's lips, wandering what they might taste like, what they would look like after they had been kissed thoroughly. _Red. Bitten._ He didn't even realize that Daryl had spoken until he forcibly waved his hand in front of Rick's face bringing him crashing back down to earth.

“Huh?” he found himself responding, face burning from embarrassment at getting caught staring. The hunter was obviously too drowsy to take notice of Rick's strange behaviour, which he was eternally grateful for, because all he did was raise an eyebrow slightly at him before repeating what he had said.

“Well if y' weren't too busy burnin' a hole in my head y' wouldv'e heard me ask why y' wanted ta be a cop, can't imagine 'ny wantin' ta” he replied dryly. Rick felt himself flush an even deeper shade of red and hoped the relative darkness in the cell would hide his mortification. He composed himself quickly and schooled his face into one lacking any particular expression before answering.

 “Well ta be honest it was 'cause of my Dad. He was my hero growin' up, I wanted ta be jus' like him. The respect jus' grew as I got older, we were very close, went straight into the academy th' minute I graduated ta follow in his footsteps” Rick replied fondly, heart constricting painfully when he thought about his father. He was grateful when Daryl didn't respond straight away; it gave him the time to push down the tidal wave of emotion threatening to crash down around him when he thought about all he had lost. When the hunter did finally speak his voice was quiet and thoughtful.

“Never had no one ta respect when I was growin' up”. Rick met his eyes and studied his face, taking in how much more open it looked under the influence of the meds and wishing painfully for a minute that the other man was always this honest with him.

“That's a pity, we all need someone ta respect. S' what makes you want ta be a better person. Maybe one day you'll have someone like that” Rick said softly.

“Ah respect you” the hunter mumbled quietly, voice so soft that Rick would have missed it if he hadn't been listening properly. Those three little words set his heart hammering in a pleasant way, childish excitement lighting up his veins like Christmas lights. He tried to keep the stupid grin off his face and not say something that Daryl might interpret as sentimental drivel; the hunter already looked awkward enough at his admission, fingers twisting in the blankets in an effort to distract himself. Rick decided to spare him the awkwardness and change the subject once he had managed to overcome most of his misplaced excitement at Daryl's admission.

 “You ever gonna tell me wha' you did fer a livin'?” he asked with barely masked amusement. The hunter's face relaxed once again and he tried to look stern, although Rick could see a half smile forming unwillingly on the other man’s mouth.

“Nah” he replied, eyelids starting to drift south with the struggle to stay awake.

“You definitely did somethin' embarassin' otherwise you'd tell me” Rick responded lightly, enjoying the good mood flowing between them. When the hunter just shrugged noncommittally he continued on.

 “Male prostitute?” He asked teasingly.

 “Stop flirtin' with me, s'embarrassin” the hunter replied with a smirk, eyes drifting closed.

“You’re not lucky enough ta have me flirt with you” Rick replied boldly, heart jumping a bit in his chest at his forwardness.

“S' that so? Maybe one day” the hunter replied in a tone that was rife with dry amusement, voice getting faint as he neared the end of the sentence.

Rick felt his mouth get dry as he thought about what the hunter had said, berating himself for letting himself get worked up when Daryl was only having a laugh with him like friends were meant to do. By the time Rick climbed out of his well of torment Daryl was fast asleep, even breaths causing his chest to rise and fall. Rick doesn't know how long he lay there studying the face of his best friend and source of his inconvenient fantasies, mulling over how innocent he looked while he was asleep, but at some point he must have drifted off because when he awoke it was pitch black. At first all he could think about was how warm and content he felt lying there and listening to the rain outside, unsure of when it had started but allowing it to soothe him all the same. As his eyes started to adjust to the dark his brain quickly supplied him with two facts simultaneously which both caused him to have a momentary meltdown. One he fallen asleep in Daryl's bed and two, said individual had decided to seek out the source of heat in his bed during the night was now lying with his face buried into Rick's chest with barely an inch or two between them.

 At first he felt paralyzed to the spot unable to move away but the more he calmed down the more he realized that deep down, he really _really_ didn't want to move away. The other man was shivering slightly and his hand that wasn't under the pillow was clutching Rick's shirt in a fist, anchoring him to the spot. After a minute of careful deliberation he decided to say fuck it and follow his gut instinct, he knew this might be his only chance to ever be this close to Daryl and he wasn't about to throw it away. He also reasoned that the other man was sick and feverish and needed taking care of but he knew that was only half the reason. He found himself reaching out tentatively, heart in his mouth, to curl his arms around the younger man gently. He held the other man reverently, like he was fragile, easily damaged, and in many ways Rick supposed that was actually an accurate description of Daryl, at least when it came to emotions. He was warm in his arms despite the shivering and when Rick pulled him in close he was surrounded by his smell, that familiar intoxicating scent hat he had come to know over the winter when they were huddled close, desperate to survive the freezing cold temperatures.

It felt nice to be near the hunter and not have it be a matter of survival. He started to panic when he felt Daryl's fist detach from its strong grip on his shirt and he waited with bated breath as the hunter's own hand came up to rest on Rick's waist, almost returning the embrace. The sudden shift brought them closer together and Rick felt the hunter's warm breath tickling the hollow at the base of his throat, their knees interlocking under the blanket intimately. As he buried his nose into the other man's hair he relaxed his body and willed his heart rate to return to normal, satisfied that the drugs had Daryl out for the count for at least another few hours. Rick couldn't help but think how much they looked like lovers at that moment, sharing such intimate space like they both belonged there and he couldn't deny how right it felt to him. He hadn't realized how much he had missed it, sleeping with another person innocently. It felt so comfortable, so _natural._ As much as he fought the urge to stay awake, knowing that he should pull away soon, he couldn't help but be lulled to sleep by the hunter’s soft breaths and the sound of the rain pelting down on the roof above. The warmth was sucking him further and further down and before he realized his eyes had drifted shut.

The sunlight peaking in through the bars of the window caused Rick to stir, eyes opening blearily as he took in his surroundings. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so rested and at ease and he couldn't quite decipher why. It took him a minute to realize he still had an arm full of volatile hunter which wouldn't be very wise once he awoke drug free to discover that. Accepting the fact that he would have to move soon he leaned down to hide his face in the other man's messy locks and inhaled his smell, enjoying the moment while it lasted, each precious second ticking away like a countdown. As he withdrew himself from the tangle of limbs slowly, Daryl began to stir, eyelids fluttering but he merely rolled over to face the wall and settled back down without awakening. Rick ended up lingering in the doorway for a lot longer than he would like to admit, a strange longing in his heart to say fuck it and climb back into bed with the hunter for a few hours and forget his troubles. With a heavy heart he finally dragged himself from the cell.

 When he returned an hour or two later to check on the younger man he looked much more alert and bright eyed. And thankfully he seemed none the wiser to the events that had occurred the previous night. Rick thought it was going to be much more of an uphill battle to convince the younger man to stay in bed and recover but he suspected the pile of books he had brought with him and the embarrassed flush on the hunter's face was part of the reason it had been easier than he thought. Later that day, when Rick was elbow deep in dirt with a newcomer from Woodbury, Maggie approached him to let him know that she and Glenn were going to take watch that night in Daryl's place and Rick couldn't help but chuckle.

 “I take it you won't be cuddlin' the nigh’ away up there” he teased in a friendly way, no real malice intended. He was taken aback when a sly grin morphed Maggie's face and she replied in a knowing voice.

 “Speakin' of cuddlin', you n' Daryl looked pretty cozy when I came to check on 'im this mornin'.” He feels the back of his neck start to burn uncomfortable at her words and he played it off coolly with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“He had a fever, was jus' helpin' 'im warm up, he even started it” he replied shaking his head with amusement. Maggie let out a peal of laughter at that; face looking younger in that moment.

“Well, I'll be, I'll take it he don' remember that huh?” she asked, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Not a thing” Rick replied easily, enjoying the camaraderie.

“Well then, yer secret is safe with me. Talk t'ya later” she responded with a smile before turning and heading back towards the prison, Glenn surveying her from across the yard with the look of a man very much in love. As Rick wistfully watched the couple steal a kiss he was brought back to the moment by the man from Woodbury speaking, James he believed his name was.

 “I hope ye don't mind me saying, but I just can't understand how you can be so close to a man who says so little” he said with a thoughtful look on his face as he paused what he was doing for a moment to squint up at Rick, sun shining directly in his eyes. Rick pondered what the man had said for a minute, leaning back onto his haunches from where they were crouched among the dirt. The more he dissected what the other man had said the more he felt his heart swell with unexplained pride at the fact that people, even the newcomers, recognized he and Daryl were close, and Daryl wasn't close to many people. Some people looked at Daryl and saw him as an anti-social but valuable part of the group. Rick looked at him and saw the man who had helped him feel more alive than anyone else ever had. He finally spoke again after a minute, kneeling down to continue his work with renewed vigour.

“Daryl is easy ta get along with once you get ta know him” was the only titbit he offered the other man who looked at him with interest. He found that was all he wanted to offer, because in some dark selfish way he didn't want anyone to get as close to the hunter as he was, a strange possessiveness encompassing him as he remembered holding the other man the night before. He could tell the newcomer wanted to say more but rather smartly he kept his questions to himself and continued what he was doing.

*

3 days had passed since Daryl had gotten sick and he was starting to officially climb the walls. Every time he asked to be let out of bed and had his request denied he started to look more and more agitated. After finally snapping at nearly every member of the group they finally approached Rick as reinforcement, knowing that if anyone could pacify the hunter, it was him. As he entered the cell he was met with Daryl's scowling face and determined eyes, letting him know this was one argument he wasn't going to back down from. Letting out a sigh he stood looking down at the hunter who was perched on the edge of the bed, fully dressed and ready to go.

“I hear yer bein' a bit of a diva” he found himself teasing in a half serious voice. The incredulous look on Daryl's face said that he could not disagree more.

‘S’not my fault that th’ whole lotta of ye are so dramatic, m’fine, I’m gettin’ nothin’ done lyin’ here like a cripple so I’m getting’ out of ‘ere” Daryl responded with a glare.

“We’re jus’ tryin’ ta help” Rick answered patiently, hands coming up in a placating manner.

‘Ye, help me go fuckin’ mad” the hunter responded quietly like he didn’t want the other man to hear. Rick heaved out a sigh to mask his impending smile before replying.

“You don’ respond very well ta people tryin’ ta help you do ya?” The hunter’s eyes pinned him in place with a sharp look like he was offended by what Rick had said.

 “By sittin’ around and starin’ at me like a bunch of miserable motherfuckers? M’not dead and m’not useless so let me get up n’ help ‘round ‘ere” the hunter shot back.

Before Rick could form a suitable answer Daryl was up on his feet and trying to walk right past him out of the cell. His hand shot out to grab the hunter’s wrist before he could calculate the risks of such a decision. It was a bad move. The minute Rick’s fingers started to close around the other man’s skin he flung himself backwards like he had been electrified, eyes looking wild for a minute. A look Rick couldn’t quite identify flashed across the other man’s face before disappearing and leaving only a vaguely hostile and unimpressed expression on the hunter’s face.

“Sorry” was the only word Rick could force himself to say at that moment. He found himself feeling rather selfishly wounded at Daryl flinching away from him like that and he had to bury the feeling deep down before he said something irrational. He knew there was a good reason for it. The hunter seemed to take a second to scrutinize Rick’s response before stepping closer into his personal space with a stubborn look in his eyes. Rick knew this move, it was designed to intimidate the other person, he knew it well from his time in the police force. He might have found it impressive a year or two ago but he knew Daryl was very unlikely to hurt him or make any real threats so it lost a lot of its effect. Plus there was also the fact that the other man being that close to him and looking into his eyes made every coherent thought he’d ever had melt away. Neither of them said anything for a good minute, locked in an intense staring contest with neither willing to back down. When Daryl did eventually speak his voice was soft as sin, a pissed off undercurrent running underneath it like a live wire.

“Think ye can’ stop me leavin huh? How you gonna do tha’? Gonna handcuff me Officer?” he taunted with narrowed eyes causing Rick’s pulse to skyrocket at the unintended suggestiveness to the hunter’s question.

“Nah, you migh’ enjoy that too much” Rick responded carelessly. When he finally realized what he had said he froze in shock, looking at the hunter with barely masked fear, afraid of what his response would be. The other man looked equally confused at Rick’s unusual statement, eyes narrowing till they were almost snakelike. Rick’s mouth popped open for a minute before closing again dumbly, realizing he had very little to say. Just as the hunter made to respond he was thankfully and blessedly interrupted by Beth.

 “Rick, you in there?” she called out; pulling Daryl’s curtain back with the hand that wasn’t holding Judith. He found himself moving away from Daryl guiltily, as if Beth could sense his attraction to the other man more acutely due to their proximity.

 “Oh good I’ve been lookin’ everywhere fer you, I need ta take a shower ‘cause your lovely daughter got sick in my hair, was wonderin’ if you could take her fer a few minutes” she said, eyes flicking between the two men questioningly.

“Sure, that’s fine, go on” he said reaching out for the little girl who was happily gurgling in the youngest Greene’s arms.

Once he had a grip on her he took off out of the cell like he was on fire, not even bothering to look back at the hunter once. Each step he took felt heavier and heavier and his head was spinning from his encounter with Daryl, replaying his own foolish words over and over again until it became a horrific medley in his head. Once he got Judith back to his cell he sat with his head buried in her hair, clutched her to his chest and prayed that her innocence would burn away all the darkest parts of him.

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeek. May have been a bit(very) late updating this but I've been super busy with college stuff so please forgive me! One of the main reasons it took me so long to finally get this out is because I was writing it late at night after college and then when I'd read over it I'd hate it and have to keep redoing it. On the plus side this is a nice long chapter so I hope it makes up for it. Hope the slow pace doesn't upset you too much but slow burn is all I know and it's what I personally enjoy so sorry! Thank you so so much for all the lovely comments on the last chapter and I hope you enjoy this new one just as much! Love you all x


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